"ffife  Life  gf  Father 
Bernard  Donnelly^ 

Br 
Rev.  William  J.  Dalton 


3°o 


Father  Bernard  Donnelly 


Life  gf  Father 
Bernard  Donnelly 


WITH  HISTORICAL  SKETCHES 

of 

KANSAS  CITY,   ST.  LOUIS 

and 
INDEPENDENCE,  MISSOURI 


By 
Rev.  William  J.  Dalton 


Published  by 
GRIMES-JOYCE  PRINTING  COMPANY 

Kansas  City,   Missouri 
1921 


>* 


^    v  736-0 f 


273?6-<z 


imprimatur 


►J<  Thomas  F.  Lillis,  D.  D. 
Bishop  of  Kansas  City,  Missouri 


October  8th,  1921 


Copyright  1921 
By  Rev.  Wm.  J.  Dalton 


To 

Kansas  City 

The  home  of  Father  Donnelly 

The  city  of  his  heart 

The   scene  of  his  great  efforts 

The  result  of  his  aspirations 

The   mighty  metropolis  he  foretold 

This  biography  is  dedicated 


INTRODUCTION 
CHAPTER  I. 

CHAPTER  II. 
CHAPTER  III. 

CHAPTER  IV. 
CHAPTER  V. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

CHAPTER  VII. 
CHAPTER  VIII. 
CHAPTER  IX. 
CHAPTER  X. 

CHAPTER  XI. 
CHAPTER  XII. 


CONTENTS 

Page 
9 

Early  Life  in  Ireland.  Struggle  for 
an  Education.  Becomes  a  Civil  En- 
gineer and  a  Temperance  Advocate     19 

Teaching  School  in  America  and 
Studying    for   the    Priesthood     .     .     27 

Roughing  it  at  the  Barrens.  Or- 
dained a  Priest  by  Bishop  Kenrick. 
A   Gilpin   Ride  to   Old   Mines     .     .     33 

His  First  Parish  in  Independence, 
then  at  the  Wilderness  Edge     .     .     40 

Building  the  Groundwork  of  a  Kan- 
sas City  Parish.  His  Fight  for  the 
Site  of  Kansas  City's  First  Church     50 

The  First  White  Woman  Born  in  his 
Parish.  Her  Recollections  of  Pioneer 
Days 62 

Bidding  Farewell  to  the  Independ- 
ence   Church 70 

Father  Donnelly  as  a  Colonizer,  En- 
thusiast, and   Man   of  Vision     .     .     74 

Civil  War  Days  and  the  Story  of  the 
Buried  Treasure 80 

The  Struggle  and  Stress  of  Recon- 
struction Days.  The  Drake  Consti- 
tution          88 

His  Work  as  a  Missionary.  The 
Hardships  and  Disappointments  of  a 
Pioneer  Priest.  The  Golden  Fee  that 

was    Lost 92 

Catholic  Beginnings  in  Kansas  City. 
Father  Donnelly  as  an  Organizer 
and  Promoter  of  Religious  and  Civic 
Enterprises        98 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Some  of  his  Reminiscent  Letters, 
Reviewing  his  Early  Struggles       .  104 

A  Priest  Among  Priests.  His  Re- 
lations to  his  Clerical  Associates     .  128 

The  History  of  Kansas  City's  First 
Church  Site 133 

The  Coming  of  the  Religious  Orders. 
The  Beginnings  of  St.  Teresa's. 
Father  Donnelly's  Encouragement  to 
the  Redemptorists.  The  Founding 
of    Charitable    Institutions     .     .     .  138 

Father  Donnelly  as  a  Secular  La- 
borer, Engineer,  Map  Maker,  Brick 
Maker,  Stone  Cutter,  Lime  Burner 
and  Builder.  His  Work  as  an  Actual 
Toiler         150 

Some  Retrospective  Letters  to  the 
"Banner."  Looking  Backward  from 
the  Sere  and  Yellow  Days     .     .     .  152 

The  Man  behind  the  Priest.  His 
Democratic  Sympathies.  His  Love 
for  Children.  His  Shrewd  Insight 
into  Human  Nature.  His  Love  for 
His  Native  Land.  His  Practical 
Patriotism .     .  172 

Father  Donnelly  as  Student, 
Scholar,  Investigator,  Orator  and 
Philosopher        177 

His  Reputation  as  a  Recluse  and  a 
Hard  Taskmaster  Dispelled  at  a 
Banquet.  He  Makes  a  Hit  as  an 
Orator  with  Great  Orators  for  his 
Audience        184 

At  the  End  of  the  Circuit.  The  New 
Generation  Displaces  him.  His  Last 
Illness  and  Pathetic  End.  The  Great 
Outpouring  of  the  People  at  His 
Funeral.     His  Unmarked  Grave     .  191 


INTRODUCTION 

BY  THE  AUTHOR 

Bishop  Louis  Wm.  V.  Dubourg  of  New  Orleans, 
but  living  in  St.  Louis,  wrote  on  January  30th,  1826, 
to  his  brother:  "I  have  long  been  convinced  that 
nothing  could  be  accomplished  here  without  the  re- 
ligious orders.  A  man  living  isolated  from  his 
kind  grows  weary  of  the  apparent  uselessness  of 
his  efforts.  The  intense  heat  exhausts  his  strength 
and  checks  his  ardor.  Too  often  he  loses  his  life 
or  in  the  fear  of  losing  it  he  abandons  his  post. 
He  is  fortunate  indeed  if  he  does  not  prove  the 
truth  of  those  words  of  the  Holy  Ghost:  'Woe  to 
him  who  is  alone!'  and  from  a  being  full  of  vigor 
and  activity  he  becomes  a  good-for-nothing  and 
the  scorn  of  his  fellowmen."  (St.  Louis  Catholic 
Historical  Review,  Vol.  II,  Nos.  2-3,  p.  70.) 

The  Right  Reverend  Bishop  was  not  living 
alone;  he  had  vicars-general  and  priests  living 
around  him,  and  surely  had  no  reason  to  get 
weary,  but  he  accepted  a  promotion,  becoming  ar 
archbishop  in  France. 

How  the  hundreds  of  missionaries  "living  iso- 
lated," like  Fathers  Badin  and  Nerinckx,  the 
founders  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  and  of  Loretto 
in  Kentucky,  like  Gallitzin,  the  Russian  prince,  in 
Pennsylvania,  like  Palamorgues  in  Iowa,  Ravoux 
in  the  wilds  of  the  Indian  lands  in  Minnesota,  like 
St.  Cyr  in  Missouri  and  Illinois,  and  hundreds  of 
other  early  missionaries  from  New  Orleans  to  St. 
Louis,  and  westward  to  Oregon — Bishop  Scanlon, 
the  first  pastor  and  bishop  of  Salt  Lake,  the  bish- 
ops and  priests  of  Idaho  and  Washington — how 
all  those,  "leading  isolated  lives,"  by  their  good 
work  until  death,  successfully  contradict  the  "con- 
viction" of  Bishop  Dubourg!  Fear  of  losing  their 
lives  did  not  make  them  abandon  their  posts.  The 
glitter  of  archiepiscopal  mitres  could  not  win  them 
back  to  easy  lives  in  their  own  native  lands. 


10  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

Not  every  disposition  is  suited  for  a  life  of  soli- 
tude, any  more  than  every  disposition  is  suited  for  a 
life  in  a  community.  Fathers  Donnelly,  Hammil  and 
Fox  of  the  St.  Louis  diocese,  the  diocesan  pioneer 
priests  in  Illinois  and  along  the  Mississippi,  Fathers 
John  Bergier,  Anthony  Dayion,  Michael  Gaulin, 
Nicholas  Foucault,  John  Daniel  Tetu,  and  Francis 
Frison  de  Lamotte,  are  instances  where  the  soli- 
tary life  did  not  cool  the  missionary  ardor. 

The  missionary  who  has  a  rugged  constitution, 
whose  soul  is  in  his  work,  whose  mind,  like  his 
health,  is  impervious  to  difficulties  of  climate  and 
slow  to  give  way  under  the  strain  of  his  efforts,  and 
who,  like  St.  Paul,  sees  only  the  greatness  of  the 
cause  in  which  he  is  enrolled,  does  not  crave  or 
need  the  solace  or  support  of  companionship. 
Sympathy,  cheering  fellowship,  constant  advice 
and  frequent  suggestion  would  have  hampered 
and  discouraged  the  great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles. 
We  have  reason  to  believe  he  could  not  have  lived 
under  the  same  roof  with  St.  Peter.  Shipwreck, 
now  and  then  imprisonment  in  jails,  opposition  of 
false  brethren,  adversities  of  every  kind,  did  not 
make  him  a  good-for-nothing,  isolated  though  he 
was. 

There  was  a  time  not  long  ago  when  to  touch 
upon  the  relative  results  of  church  activities 
among  the  missionary  pioneers  in  America  was  to 
stir  up  a  feeling  bordering  on  rancor  among  the 
admirers  of  the  various  modern  apostles.  Ad- 
miring humanity  will  always  divide  on  the  ques- 
tion, who  has  done  best?  The  early  Christians 
were  not  exceptions.  Some  were  for  Paul,  some 
for  Apollo.  St.  Paul,  in  his  first  epistle  to  the 
Corinthians,  writes: 

"For  while  one  saith :  I  indeed  am  of  Paul; 
?nd  another:  I  am  of  Apollo;  are  you  not  men? 
What  then  is  Apollo  and  what  is  Paul?     The  min- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  11 

isters  of  Him  whom  you  have  believed:  and  to 
every  one  as  the  Lord  hath  given.  I  have  planted, 
Apollo  watered :  but  God  gave  the  increase." 
(I  Corinthians,  111:  4,  5,  6.) 

All  were  loyal  followers  of  the  Twelve  Apos- 
tles, and  all  full  of  praise  of  what  each  one  did 
in  the  advancement  of  Christianity.  In  science,  in 
art,  in  every  phase  of  human  excellence,  men  have 
ever  discussed  the  question,  who  is  best,  who  leads 
all  the  others?  Tastes  will  differ.  In  the  cause 
of  Christianity,  the  great  chieftains  present  them- 
selves in  different  lights  to  different  people.  He- 
roism has  as  many  aspects  as  there  are  different 
tastes  and  different  ideas  of  what  constitutes  the 
heroic.  The  twelve  fearless  Apostles  appeal  to 
some,  the  martyrs  to  others,  the  sweet  angelic 
nature  to  others  still.  The  spirit  of  organization, 
banding  an  army  by  discipline  and  rules  of  forget- 
fulness  of  self,  awes  many  into  an  admiration  of 
system,  and  makes  them  forget  or  underestimate 
the  work  of  the  units  striving  to  the  same  end. 
The  universities  of  learning  house  great  minds 
struggling  to  forward  every  line  of  mental  re- 
search, yet  the  workshop  here  and  there  pro- 
duces an  Edison,  who,  singlehanded,  brings  out 
results  unsurpassed.  When  Oxford  was  at  its 
best,  the  literature  of  England  was  furnished  by 
the  Addisons,  the  Goldsmiths,  the  Johnsons,  in 
the  periodicals,  and  sometimes  writing  from  the 
very  hovels  of  London.  Yet  the  University  in  its 
professors  prospered  and  did  much  to  enhance  the 
beauties  and  style  of  the  English  tongue. 

In  the  missionary  work  of  the  world  discov- 
ered by  Columbus,  the  religious  orders  were  first 
in  the  field.  From  Quebec  in  Canada  they  tracked 
the  Indian  tribes  over  plains  and  hills,  along  the 
Atlantic  coast.  They  looked  them  up  first  when 
with    Columbus    they    entered    America.      They 


12  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

sought  and  found  them  on  the  banks  of  the  St. 
Laurence,  of  the  Great  Lakes,  of  the  Mississippi. 
About  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  afterwards 
they  came  to  them  and  lived  with  them  along  the 
Missouri  River,  through  the  Great  American  Des- 
ert, over  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and,  under  De 
Smet,  up  into  Oregon.  The  Jesuits,  the  Francis- 
cans, the  Benedictines,  went  into  South  America 
and  preached  Christ  everywhere  in  that  great 
division  of  the  New  World. 

In  this  survey,  where  do  we  find  the  diocesan 
priests?  In  those  days  diocesan  priests  were  in 
Europe  in  their  respective  territories,  called  dio- 
ceses. As  their  name  indicates,  they  work  within 
certain  territorial  lines.  Their  duty  holds  them  to 
the  people  and  the  district  to  which  they  are  as- 
signed. They  pledge  themselves  to  labor  at  the 
call  of  their  respective  bishops.  Besides,  the  dio- 
cesan priests  were  not  numerous  and  there  was 
not  much  scope  for  them.  The  religious  orders 
were  everywhere  in  Europe,  monks  and  religious 
were  numerous  in  cities,  towns,  and  country  places, 
too.  The  diocesan  priest  could  not,  if  disposed, 
go  into  missionary  fields.  His  salary  kept  him 
poor,  in  fact  men  rarely  become  rich  from  salary 
as  a  revenue.  The  diocesan  priest  is  the  bishop's 
priest  and  subject,  and  can  go  only  where  his 
bishop  orders  him.  To  enter  the  missionary  career 
entailed  the  expense  of  travel  from  home  across 
the  Atlantic  and  to  the  scene  of  one's  endeavors. 
The  diocesan  priest  had  very  little,  if  any,  money, 
not  enough  at  least  to  pay  his  way  to  foreign  lands. 
Had  he  the  means  to  reach  his  destination  he  was 
without  side  money  with  which  to  feed  and  clothe 
himself.  Even  a  religious  order  in  financial  straits 
would  not  look  like  a  born  missionary  band  in  a 
new  country. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  13 

Father  Felix  De  Andreis  was  holy  enough  to 
be  entered  in  the  Process  of  Canonization,  yet  he 
was  worldly  wise.  On  February  24th,  1818,  he 
wrote  from  St.  Louis,  where  he  had  recently  ar- 
rived, to  his  superior  in  Italy,  Father  Sicardi : 
"We  need  whole  colonies  of  missionaries  with 
considerable  pecuniary  resources,  in  order  to 
make  rapid  progress  in  these  intense  woods." 
Father  De  Andreis  knew  the  reputation  of  pioneer 
Christians  and  native  Indians.  The  former  had 
nothing  to  give  the  missionary,  and  the  latter  ex- 
pected the  missionary  to  give  him  help,  for  body 
as  well  as  for  soul.  It  costs  a  civilized  man  money 
to  live  even  in  the  land  of  indolent  savages,  and 
though  a  man  be  a  tailor  and  a  cook  he  must  pay 
for  what  he  eats  and  wears  even  though  he  does 
put  them  together.  Bishop  Dubourg,  who  could 
turn  a  Latin  sentence  with  Ciceronian  ease  and 
finesse  and  like  a  famed,  gifted  Irishman  could 
say  two  things  at  the  same  time,  minimized  the 
value  of  the  diocesan  missionary  because  of  the 
solitariness  of  his  life  and  the  lack  of  cheering 
surroundings,  and  preferred  the  religious  commu- 
nities to  the  one-man  worker  in  the  new  countries. 
Another  reason  he  had  perhaps  away  down  in  his 
heart  was  that  the  monk  or  religious  would  not  be 
dependent  on  the  slim  revenues  of  the  Louisiana 
diocese.  The  Right  Reverend  Bishop  was  a  man 
of  zeal  and  brave  heart,  but  he  remained  a  rather 
long  time  in  Paris  because  he  wanted  to  secure 
the  means  to  live  in  a  manner  becoming  his  dig- 
nity when  he  should  go  to  his  western  diocese. 
He  could  not  husband  the  means  he  was  securing 
in  Paris  if  he  were  obliged  to  support  or  even  aid 
a  band  of  diocesan  priests.  Bishop  Dubourg  knew 
that  the  diocesan  priest  would  be  next  to  useless 
without  some  help  to  keep  him  in  the  wilds  of  the 
new  West.    So  also  would  the  religious  orders.     It 


14         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

would  have  added  to  the  straightforwardness  of 
his  character  had  he  said  with  the  sainted  Father 
De  Andreis:  "We  need,  we  can  use,  whole  col- 
onies of  those  priests  only  'who  have  considerable 
pecuniary  resources,  to  work  and  make  progress 
in  these  intense  forests.'  " 

European  nations  with  foreign  possessions  in 
Asia,  Africa,  or  the  islands,  always  find  a  ready, 
necessary  and  efficient  helper  in  the  Christian  mis- 
sionary. Their  claims  over  their  possessions  are 
strengthened  and  made  easy  by  the  mollifying,  re- 
straining efforts  of  the  ministers  of  God.  Their 
soldiers  need  and  demand  the  ministrations  of  the 
chaplains.  Even  France,  when  she  was  closing  the 
churches  at  home  and  driving  the  religious  orders 
out  of  the  Republic,  would  send  to  the  colonies  an 
army  to  punish  insults  to  the  French  missionaries  or 
refusals  to  receive  them.  Infidelity  might  be  the 
proper  thing  at  home,  but  the  conquered  pagan  in 
the  French  possessions  needed  religion,  and  France 
at  least  forced  them  to  listen  to  the  missisionaries 
and  not  dare  molest  them.  Perhaps  they  sought  not 
so  much  the  religious  impressions  and  conversions 
made  by  the  missionaries  as  the  obedience  to  govern- 
ment authority  taught  by  the  Church.  And  having 
sent  missionaries  to  their  foreign  acquisitions,  does 
it  not  seem  reasonable  to  say  they  supported  them, 
as  England  sustained  the  Catholic  priests  in  the 
West  Indies. 

The  Jesuits  in  the  Canadian  territory  along  the 
lakes  had  blazed  the  way  for  a  new  race  of  mis- 
sionaries. They  had  explored  the  new  country,  and 
made  known  the  topography  and  even  the  very  na- 
ture of  the  soil  of  every  place  they  visited.  Their 
first  work  was  done,  and  another  awaited  them. 
They  were  skilled  scientists,  and  were  by  training 
at  home  professors  and  founders  of  schools  and  col- 
leges.    Others  could  follow  in  their  footsteps  over 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  15 

mountain  and  vale,  for  the  Jesuits  furnished  the 
world  with  maps  of  the  pathways  and  streams  of 
Canada  and  the  northeast  States.  Then  they  re- 
turned to  fulfill  the  second  part  of  their  oath-bound 
obligation,  "to  take  special  care  of  the  education  of 
youth." 

Father  Charles  Van  Quickenborne,  superior  of 
the  small  colony  of  two  Jesuit  Fathers,  seven  aspir- 
ants to  the  priesthood,  and  three  lay  brothers,  had 
been  in  Missouri  but  a  very  short  time  when  he  un- 
dertook his  first  missionary  tour  among  the  Osage 
Indians  in  the  Territory  in  1827.  His  first  visit  to 
the  Indians  convinced  him  that  no  great  or  per- 
manent results  could  ever  be  accomplished  among  the 
indolent,  wandering  and  indocile  aborigines  of  the 
woods  and  prairies,  "which  would  at  all  compensate 
missionaries  for  sacrificing  all  their  energies  and 
resources  in  exclusive  attention  to  the  savages." 
(See  Father  Walter  Hill's  "History  of  St.  Louis 
University.")  Strong  language?  Well,  St.  Paul 
used  strong  language  about  the  people  to  whom  he 
preached.  An  easy,  generous  critic  might  say 
Father  Van  Quickenborne's  language  was  that  of  a 
chiding  mother  to  her  indifferent  boy.  Whatever 
way  it  may  sound,  it  was  a  warning  that  the  Jesuits 
had  other  aims  in  their  good  work  than  sacrificing 
their  resources  and  available  properties  in  futile 
missions  among  the  Indians.  Bishop  Rosatti  about 
that  time  was  anxious  to  rid  himself  of  a  high  school 
or  college  belonging  to  the  diocese  of  St.  Louis.  The 
Jesuits  soon  became  owners  of  it  and  gave  most  of 
their  time  and  labor  to  the  college.  And  what  a 
blessing  to  religion  in  St.  Louis  and  the  United 
States  at  large  that  college  has  been  under  the  mas- 
terful leadership  of  the  Jesuits  for  nearly  one  hun- 
dred years !  Father  Van  Quickenborne  and  Father 
Hoecken,  the  two  Fathers  Eysvogels,  were  living 
with  the  Indians  in  the  Territory  in  1836  and  1837, 


16         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

and  in  fact  through  their  successors  at  St.  Mary's, 
Kansas,  are  with  them  yet — that  is,  if  there  are  any 
Indians  left  there. 

Rome  saw  that  the  religious  communities  were 
tiring  and  seeking  other  fields,  so  the  Propaganda 
requested  that  missionary  colleges  be  started  in  Ire- 
land, France,  Belgium  and  Spain.  The  bishops  of 
America,  with  new  dioceses  in  the  north  and  west, 
found  in  the  priest-graduates  of  these  colleges  men 
willing  and  able  to  carry  on  the  unfinished  work  of 
the  first  missionaries.  No  greater  zeal,  no  more 
heroic  endurance  of  bitter  hardships,  ever  marked 
the  lives  of  apostles  in  God's  service  than  were  dis- 
played by  Father  (afterwards  Bishop)  Baraga  and 
his  successors  for  years  in  the  cold  north  peninsula 
of  Michigan.  Bishop  M.  Loras  of  Dubuque  and 
Bishop  Joseph  Cretin  of  St.  Paul  were  aided  to 
wonderful  mission  results  among  Indians  and  pio- 
neers. They  were  all  diocesan  priests  trained  for 
the  requirements  of  those  early  days.  Bishop  Mar- 
tin Henni,  the  first  Bishop  of  Milwaukee,  gradually 
found  vocations  at  home  among  the  diocesan  stu- 
dents of  his  seminary. 

Nearly  one  hundred  years  ago  the  Lazarists  in 
St.  Louis  prepared  diocesan  students  for  missionary 
labors  in  Missouri,  Kansas  and  Louisiana.  The 
priests  of  the  diocese  were  soon  as  efficient  in  this 
western  wilderness  as  the  Fathers  of  religious  orders 
had  been  in  primitive  times.  They,  too,  soon  be- 
came as  inured  to  the  dangers  to  life  and  limb  as 
were  their  predecessors.  And  how  many  and  how 
severe  were  their  endurances!  They  frequently 
lived  in  huts  without  cooks  and  without  help,  and 
without  nurses  in  sickness  and  accidents.  The  re- 
ligious had  all  their  struggles  with  rain  and  swollen 
streams,  with  miasmatic  poisons  in  new  and  savage 
countries,  but  they  had  the  fraternal  care  of  their 
own  brothers  who  nursed  them  and  they  had  their 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         17 

mother-house  for  a  hospital  when  that  was  neces- 
sary. The  religious  missioners  had  to  strive  for 
means  of  livelihood,  but  in  crying  need  they  had  the 
financial  resources  of  their  order  to  draw  upon.  In 
1840  Fathers  Verreydt  and  De  Smet,  the  one  on  his 
way  to  St.  Mary's  Mission,  the  other  on  his  way  to 
the  Oregon  missions,  met  at  Kanzas,  now  Kansas 
City.  They  both  were  in  pressing  want  for  articles 
of  food  and  wear.  They  made  purchases  at  the 
Chouteau  warehouse.  In  payment  they  presented 
drafts  on  Father  Verhaegen,  then  Vice-Provincial  at 
St.  Louis  University.  The  drafts  were  honored  as 
cash.  Imagine  a  Donnelly  or  a  St.  Cyr  drawing  on 
their  worthy  Bishop  at  St.  Louis !  Their  draft  might 
be  honored  by  the  drawee,  but  a  repetition  would  be 
unthought  of,  because  of  the  warning  letter  which 
certainly  would  have  followed.  The  diocesan  mis- 
sionary was  like  the  Indian  small  boy  whose  father 
would  pitch  him  into  the  fast  current — it  was  a  case 
of  sink  or  swim. 

However,  there  were  zealous  men  willing  and 
unafraid,  who,  without  financial  support  from  re- 
ligious order  or  other  source,  undertook  the  mis- 
sionary life  in  localities  where  they  could  hope  for 
only  the  most  meager  if  any  returns  in  a  worldly 
sense,  men  who  faced  hardships  of  all  kinds  in  a 
life  new  to  their  own  experience,  who  overcame 
obstacles  of  a  sort  to  discourage  the  bravest,  and 
who,  strong  in  Faith  and  purpose,  toiled  on  in  God's 
holy  service  until  able  to  do  no  more,  and  who  with 
their  parting  sigh  could  whisper  a  happy  "Deo 
gratias,"  content  in  the  knowledge  that  their  efforts 
had  not  been  unavailing,  that  what  they  had  so  pain- 
fully struggled  for  had  been  gained,  and  that  it  was 
all  for  God's  greater  glory.  Not  lea<st  among  such 
valiant  ones  was  Father  Bernard  Donnelly,  the 
story  of  whose  life  is  recorded  in  these  pages. 


18  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

At  an  age  when  youthful  ardor  had  cooled,  with 
a  true  idea  of  what  confronted  him,  with  the  knowl- 
edge of  mission  life  in  the  far  West  imprinted  on 
his  mind  from  books  and  from  the  lips  of  the  early 
missionaries  in  Missouri  and  the  Territory,  Father 
Donnelly  faced  his  chosen  career  undaunted. 
Through  malarial  chill  and  fever,  time  and  time 
again,  through  the  bitter  cold  of  winter  and  the 
burning  heat  of  summer,  through  trackless  desert 
and  over  untrod  hills  and  mountains,  among  kind 
but  poor  and  thriftless  squatters  and  unsuccessful 
people  of  western  Missouri  and  Arkansas,  with  a 
cheerless,  fireless  hut  to  enter  when  long  tours  were 
over,  without  cook,  without  nurse  or  doctor,  he 
struggled  on.  The  strong  frame  weakened,  the  limbs 
lost  their  agility  and  the  joints  their  suppleness,  the 
lungs  resented  the  cold  air  of  the  prairie  and  the 
mountain,  and  a  cough  preceded  the  wheezing  short 
breath  of  the  victim  of  asthma,  his  fingers  were  mis- 
shapen from  many  a  rheumatic  attack  and  from  ex- 
posure in  blizzards,  but  he  never  yielded  to  dis- 
couragement; with  a  smile  on  his  face  and  cheer  in 
his  heart  to  the  very  end  he  said  his  daily  Mass,  was 
ready  to  answer  calls  to  the  sick  and  the  dying,  and 
was  ever  attentive  to  all  the  demands  of  duty. 


© 


CHAPTER  I. 
EARLY  LIFE. 

ERNARD  DONNELLY  was  born  in  the 
town  of  Kilnacreva,  County  Cavan,  Ireland. 
The  day  and  year  of  his  birth,  had  he  ever 
known,  he  forgot  in  his  advanced  years.  He 
knew  he  was  baptized  in  infancy,  for  the  priest  who 
performed  the  ceremony  was  his  pastor  up  to  man- 
hood and  often  told  him  so.  The  rule  of  the  Catholic 
Church  is  that  the  priest  must  make  the  record  of 
each  baptism,  giving  the  date  of  the  baptism,  the 
name  of  the  child,  the  date  of  its  birth,  the  names  of 
the  parents  and  the  names  of  the  sponsors,  together 
with  his  own  name  as  the  priest  who  baptized  the 
child. 

When  young  Donnelly  was  born  and  for  years 
before  and  afterwards,  the  English  laws  forbade  a 
Catholic  priest  to  make  any  record  or  keep  any  entry 
of  a  baptism.  Schools  were  not  tolerated  in  Ireland 
when  Bernard's  parents  were  young.  The  school 
teacher  in  Ireland  was  outlawed  by  the  English  gov- 
ernment, a  price  was  put  on  his  head  and  he  was 
hunted  like  a  wild  beast.  So  his  father  and  mother 
were  unable  to  read  or  write,  and  records  of  their 
children's  birth  could  not  be  made  by  them.  When 
asked  his  age  he  would  make  a  calculation  by  say- 
ing he  could  recall  such  and  such  an  historic  event 
and  so  must  have  been  five  or  six  years  old  at  that 
time.  From  his  recollection  of  events  recorded  on 
the  tablets  of  his  memory  and  connected  with  the 
career  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  he  would  say :  "Well, 
I  am  older  than  the  19th  Century."  The  small  boy 
early  picks  out  his  hero,  who  must  be  a  fighter  on 
the  field  of  battle  or  in  the  arena,  and  he  never  for- 
gets his  name  or  deeds. 


20         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

His  father's  name  was  John  Donnelly  and  his 
mother's  was  Rose  Fox.  A  little  while  before  Ber- 
nard reached  school  age,  the  English  rulers  of  Ire- 
land had  discovered  that  keeping  Ireland  in  en- 
forced illiteracy  did  not  make  the  Irish  more  docile 
subjects  nor  did  it  turn  them  into  cringing  slaves. 
This  kind  of  persecution  drove  the  young  manhood 
of  Ireland  by  the  thousands  into  the  army  of  France. 
The  famed  victory  of  Fontenoy,  May  11th,  1745, 
when  the  English  army  was  almost  destroyed,  sent 
the  echo  of  the  cheers  of  the  Irish  troops  under 
Marshal  Saxe  across  the  ocean  from  Belgium  into 
every  town  and  city  of  England.  And  those  exultant 
cheers  of  revenge  rolled  around  the  halls  of  the 
English  parliament  and  made  terror-stricken  legisla- 
tors repeal  one  brutal  law  after  another.  Schools 
were  among  the  last  of  all  concessions  granted  Ire- 
land, but  those  schools  were  opened  and  maintained 
by  the  Irish  themselves. 

The  days  of  the  hedge  school  were  past :  when 
the  teacher,  disguised,  hid  himself  in  the  forest  or 
mountain  crags,  where  his  pupils  flocked  to  learn 
the  rudiments  of  knowledge  as  well  as  the  languages 
of  Greek  and  Latin,  and  higher  mathematics.  The 
new  schools  were  poor  in  construction  and  poor  in 
furnishment.  To  a  makeshift  like  this  young  Don- 
nelly trudged  along,  happy  and  ambitious  to  learn. 
Six  days  a  week  he  carried  his  slate  and  "cutter,"  his 
quill  pen  and  drying  sand  for  his  freshly  written 
page,  to  the  teacher's  home  where  school  was  held. 
A  block  of  turf  was  the  pupil's  daily  contribution 
towards  heating  the  room,  and  once  a  week  each 
scholar  handed  the  teacher  as  many  pennies  as  he 
could  afford  for  tuition. 

There  were  no  readers  for  the  standards  as  we 
have,  and  after  learning  the  alphabet  and  mastering 
the  spelling  of  words  of  one  syllable,  the  pupils  had 
to  reach  words  of  two  syllables  through  books  of  ad- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  21 

venture,  of  history,  and  of  religious  devotion.  Such 
a  faulty  arrangement  made  the  reading  of  simple 
words  a  work  of  years.  Practical  men  all  over  Ire- 
land soon  saw  the  lack  of  system  in  the  new  schools. 
Committees  were  formed  from  all  parts  of  Ireland 
to  advance  and  simplify  the  method  of  imparting 
knowledge.  Children  were  classified,  more  meth- 
odical men  succeeded  the  early  schoolmaster,  and 
suitable  and  comfortable  buildings  were  erected 
everywhere. 

Young  Donnelly  was  a  pupil  in  time  to  benefit 
by  the  change  for  the  better.    His  talent  and  appli- 
cation soon  entitled  him  to  promotion  to  a  higher 
grade  of  studies,  and  his  parents  placed  him  under 
the  care  of  one  of  the  many  teachers  who  specialized 
in  mathematics.    His  name  was  Hugh  O'Reilly.    He 
lived  at  Cooteshill,  a  short  distance  from  Donnelly's 
home.     O'Reilly's   reputation   was   known   far  and 
wide.    Under  him  the  youth  acquired  a  knowledge  of 
algebra,    geometry    and    trigonometry.      His    next 
ambition  was  a  course  of  English  and  civil  engineer- 
ing.   For  these  he  put  himself  under  the  tuition  of 
a  George  Alderson,  a  graduate  of  Oxford  and  for 
years    a    professor    of    engineering    in    a    military 
academy  near  Oxford.    Alderson's  school  at  this  time 
was  in  the  outskirts  of  Dublin.     In  his  second  year 
here   Donnelly   resumed   his   studies   of  Latin   and 
Greek.    After  three  years  of  hard  study  Dr.  Aider- 
son  pronounced  Donnelly  worthy  the  highest  honors 
of  his  class.     His  school  days  in  Ireland  were  now 
over.     Recommendation  from  Alderson  secured  for 
his  pupil  a  membership  in  a  civil  engineering  corps 
in  Dublin.    His  next  location  was  in  Liverpool,  where 
he  worked  as  civil  engineer  in  the  construction  of 
the  Liverpool  docks. 

A  good  salary  and  a  saving  disposition  enabled 
him  to  help  his  parents  in  Ireland  and  to  put  away 
some   money   every   month   to  pay   his   passage  to 


22  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

America  in  the  near  future.  Like  thousands  of  his 
countrymen  young  and  old  he  saw  the  goal  of  future 
success  across  the  ocean.  His  parents  were  then, 
and  while  he  was  at  school,  the  objects  of  his  solici- 
tude. He  found  time  while  studying  in  Ireland  to 
put  aside  his  books  now  and  then  to  return  to  his 
home  to  help  his  father  on  the  little  farm  rented 
from  a  landlord.  In  evenings  when  the  day's  duties 
were  done,  he  worked  in  stores  and  helped  merchants 
in  balancing  their  books.  Even  on  holidays  he  found 
employment  that  brought  tidy  returns.  He  was  ever 
a  tireless  student  and  a  dutiful  son. 

In  Liverpool  he  identified  himself  with  various 
Catholic  societies  and  sodalities,  attending  early 
Mass  on  his  way  to  work  every  morning  and  ap- 
proaching Holy  Communion  on  Sundays.  His  ex- 
emplary life  and  scholarly  attainments  soon  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  the  few  priests  then  in  Liver- 
pool. They  were  his  guides  and  his  advisers,  and 
by  their  influence  put  him  in  the  way  of  the  best 
Catholic  society  and  found  for  him  a  home  where  he 
enjoyed  every  comfort.  Father  Theobald  Matthew's 
crusade  against  intemperance  was  fast  winning  the 
blessings  of  the  world.  He  had  torn  thousands  of 
helpless  victims  from  the  clutches  of  the  monster 
drunkenness.  Overindulgence  in  strong  liquor  had 
swept  over  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland.  Liver- 
pool was  a  workingman's  city.  Drunkenness  often 
works  its  worst  ravages  among  the  people  of  toil 
and  few  comforts.  Bernard  Donnelly  soon  per- 
ceived the'fell  effects  of  liquor  in  the  ranks  of  the 
toilers  on  the  wharves  and  in  the  workshops.  He 
saw  many  of  his  own  countrymen,  who  came  to  Liv- 
erpool to  get  employment  to  help  themselves  and 
their  poor  families  in  Ireland,  become  slaves  to  the 
whisky  habit.  In  young  manhood  as  in  after  life 
when  a  priest  he  had  a  heart  and  a  ready  will  for  the 
unfortunate. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  23 

After  consulting  his  priest  friends  he  started  a 
temperance  society.  They  were  with  him  and  en- 
couraged and  blessed  his  undertaking.  The  Catholic 
pulpits  announced  the  time  and  place  of  the  meet- 
ings. A  large  hall  could  not  hold  the  crowds  that 
responded.  Every  priest  in  Liverpool  and  priests 
from  surrounding  towns  were  on  the  platform.  Their 
presence  was  a  benediction  and  their  speeches  were 
eloquent  in  approval  and  strong  in  appeal  to  join 
the  cause. 

Bernard  Donnelly's  name  was  a  signal  for  loud 
applause.  With  an  outburst  of  unanimity  he  was 
appointed  chairman.  The  Mayor  of  Liverpool 
thanked  the  young  chairman  for  such  a  society  and 
one  so  much  needed.  Although  not  a  Catholic,  he 
requested  that  his  name  be  enrolled.  Before  the 
meeting  adjourned  Donnelly  was  elected  president. 
More  than  seven  hundred  men  and  women  responded 
to  Mr.  Donnelly's  appeals  by  then  and  there  joining 
Father  Matthew's  Temperance  Society  of  the  City 
of  Liverpool.  The  large  audience  arose  and  with 
right  hands  uplifted  repeated  the  temperance  pledge 
authorized  by  Father  Matthew.  The  Vicar  General 
read  the  pledge  from  a  letter  of  approval  and  bless- 
ing written  by  Father  Matthew  at  his  headquarters 
in  Cork,  Ireland. 

For  some  weeks  Mr.  Donnelly  attended  meet- 
ings held  in  various  parts  of  the  city  of  Liverpool. 
The  meetings  grew  in  attendance  and  the  member- 
ship enrolled  kept  pace,  until  Mr.  Donnelly  was  able 
to  announce  the  new  crusade  eight  thousand  strong. 
It  was  not  long  until  Father  Matthew  tore  himself 
away  from  his  great  work  at  home  and  followed  in 
the  wake  of  the  young  local  organizer.  He  opened 
every  meeting  with  words  of  praise  and  thanks  to 
Mr.  Donnelly,  whom  he  named  the  "Apostle  of  Tem- 
perance in  England."  Father  Matthew  went  back 
to  Ireland  but  in  a  little  while  returned  to  England 


24         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

and  lectured  in  every  large  city,  praising  everywhere 
the  work  of  his  young  countryman. 

In  1849-1852  Father  Matthew  visited  the  United 
States.     He  lectured  on  his  heart  subject  in  every 
Catholic  church  and  many  halls  from  Boston  to  New 
Orleans  and  St.  Louis.     In  the  city  of  Washington 
he  was  honored  by  an  invitation  from  both  houses 
of  Congress  to  address  them  in  the  Senate  Cham- 
ber.   While  lecturing  in  St.  Louis  in  October,  1850, 
the  pastor  of  Independence,  Missouri,  called  on  him 
in  the  residence  of  Archbishop  Kenrick.     The  Ber- 
nard Donnelly  who  years  previously  had  unfurled 
the  banner  of  Father  Matthew  in  the  city  of  Liver- 
pool had  become  the  priest  Donnelly  of  Independence. 
Words  would  fail  to  express  the  joyous  hearts  of 
the  great  leader   and  the   able  lieutenant.     When 
they  met  in  the  Land  of  Promise  and  Freedom  the 
rugged  frame  of  Father  Matthew  had  been  touched 
by  age  and  it's  infirmities,  but  his  heart  was  as 
benevolent  and  his  voice  as  powerful  and  his  work 
as  far-reaching  as  when  last  they  were  together. 
America  was  as  ready  to  recognize  a  benefactor  of 
the    race    as    was    England    or    Ireland.       Father 
Matthew  was  an  orator  and  an  orator  is  one  who 
persuades  and  captures.    The  American  Senate  and 
House  of  Representatives  pronounced  him  one  of  the 
greatest  orators  that  ever  addressed  their  assembly. 
America  proclaimed  him  an  orator  by  joining  his 
crusade  in  numbers  over  500,000  strong. 

A  success  in  a  most  benevolent  enterprise,  with 
a  salary  for  his  work  as  civil  engineer  and  a  surplus 
with  which  to  make  the  declining  years  of  his 
parents  comfortable,  and  with  fine  prospects  for 
social  and  financial  advance,  Mr.  Donnelly  had 
reasoned  that  his  labors  in  Europe  were  complete. 
He  had  a  yearning  for  other  surroundings.  There 
was  an  air  of  antiquity  all  about  him  from  which  he 
wished  to  escape.    His  native  land  was  crushed  by 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  25 

hundreds  of  years  of  oppression  and  ferocious 
cruelty.  The  very  country  he  was  leaving  was  the 
home  of  his  country's  oppressor.  The  very  air  he 
breathed  was  heavy  with  odors  of  prisons  and  jails. 
He  felt  enfettered,  and  he  would  be  free.  There  is 
no  freedom  in  a  land  where  one's  country  and  one's 
religion  are  hated. 

Washington  and  his  land  of  true  democracy 
were  his  ideals  of  the  hero  to  worship  and  the  coun- 
try to  live  in.  Thousands  of  his  fellow  countrymen 
were  happy  across  the  Atlantic  and  many  of  them 
were  writing  him  to  join  them.  He  had  a  secret 
deep  down  in  his  heart  which  he  seldom,  if  ever, 
divulged.  He  believed  he  was  called  to  be  a  priest. 
He  would  be  received  readily  into  the  sacred  ministry 
in  England  or  in  his  dear  old  Ireland.  He  was  more 
than  once  told  so  by  clergymen  high  in  the  ranks 
of  the  priesthood.  But  he  would  rather  be  what  he 
often  called  a  free  priest,  secure  from  unfriendly 
national  laws  and  interferences  of  an  inimical  gov- 
ernment. With  that  truly  Irish  and  comical  twinkle 
of  eye  he  often  said,  "I  believe  there  are  other  ways 
of  going  to  Heaven  than  through  martyrdom."  He 
made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  America  and  there 
serve  in  the  priesthood.  Ireland  had  enough  of 
.priests,  America  needed  more.  He  bade  farewell 
to  Liverpool  and  his  many  friends  there  and  re- 
turned to  Ireland.  He  spent  some  months  with 
his  parents  and  then  took  shipping  for  New  York. 
Fulton's  steamboats  were  still  on  trial.  Steam  pro- 
pelled the  light  craft  along  the  banks  of  the  Hudson 
River  and  frightened  the  Indians  and  the  western 
pioneers  on  the  Mississippi  and  the  Missouri,  but 
had  not  yet  proved  secure  to  the  timid  passengers 
crossing  the  broad  and  turbulent  Atlantic  Ocean.  The 
sailing  vessel  that  he  selected  was  packed  with  his 
countrypeople,  like  himself  fleeing  from  misery.  The 
passage  was  anything  but  pleasant.     There  were 


26  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

few  comforts  on  board,  many  were  sick  from  the 
roughness  of  the  sea.  The  time  crossing  was  eighty 
days. 

One  of  the  first  men  he  became  acquainted  with 
on  landing  in  New  York,  and  that  was  through 
letters  of  introduction,  was  a  Mr.  O'Connor,  a  school 
teacher  in  New  York,  the  father  of  Charles  O'Con- 
nor, America's  greatest  constitutional  lawyer.  It 
was  a  pleasing  surprise  to  find  that  many  of  his 
countrymen  were  school  teachers  in  the  cities  of 
America  from  New  York  to  the  farthest  western 
city,  St.  Louis,  in  Philadelphia,  Charleston  and 
New  Orleans.  They  were  in  nearly  every  city  on 
the  Ohio  River,  and  in  Cincinnati.  Everywhere  the 
Irish  schoolmaster  wielded  the  rod  and  taught  the 
young  idea  how  to  shoot. 

Daniel  Boone  accepted  an  invitation  to  colonize 
the  territory  of  Missouri.  He  entered  many  acres 
of  land  at  Point  de  Femme,  about  the  site  of  St. 
Charles.  He  brought  with  him  Marylanders,  Caro- 
linians, Kentuckians,  Tennesseeans,  and  two  Irish 
school  teachers  to  instruct  the  children  in  the  rudi- 
ments of  learning.  Neither  Boone  nor  his  follow- 
ers had  the  advantage  of  education.  Boone's  school 
teachers  were  versed  in  many  things.  They  could 
out  jump,  out  wrestle,  out  box,  and  out  run  the 
nimblest  of  the  semi-wild  men  they  accompanied.  In 
the  school  the  teacher's  rod  was  as  essential  as  the 
book  or  the  slate,  pen  or  paper.  The  rod  was  as  nec- 
essary to  the  teacher  in  his  realm  as  the  royal  sceptre 
to  the  King  of  England  on  the  opening  of  Parlia- 
ment. It  was  a  sign  to  the  "pupil  that  the  law  of 
order  was  presiding.  In  the  Irish  teacher's  hand 
the  ruler  was  a  connecting  link  between  teacher  and 
pupil,  with  the  pupil  at  the  end  that  brought  shock 
and  pain.  He  used  the  ruler,  as  he  was  wont  to  say, 
to  drive  learning  into  the  pupil  when  the  easier  or 
more  gentle  method  failed. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MR.  DONNELLY  BECOMES  A  SCHOOL 
TEACHER. 


m 


•R.  DONNELLY  while  in  Ireland  had  prac- 
ticed the  profession  of  school  teacher.  At 
short  intervals  he  supplied  the  places  of  two 
different  teachers  while  studying  in  the 
city  of  Dublin.  He  also  filled  a  vacancy  in  a  school 
in  his  native  county  where  in  youth  he  had  been  a 
pupil.  His'  friends  in  New  York  suggested  that  he 
take  a  school  in  either  New  York  or  Philadelphia. 
Philadelphia  was  a  close  rival  of  New  York  in  those 
days  and  the  salaries  offered  by  directors  of  educa- 
tion were  higher  in  Philadelphia.  Besides,  Mr. 
Donnelly  had  the  county  clannishness  then  and  in 
fact  all  through  life:  he  leaned  to  men  from  his 
own  county  in  Ireland.  Philadelphia  then  and  for 
many  years  after  was  the  stopping  place  in  America 
for  men  from  Donegal  and  Cavan.  They  flocked 
there.  He  selected  Philadelphia  where  he  could  hear 
the  soft  brogue  of  the  North  of  Ireland  and  where 
he  could  enjoy  the  fellowship  of  his  own  townsland 
people.  He  accepted  the  offer  of  a  well  equipped 
school  and  a  very  desirable  salary.  After  a  year 
and  more  he  was  offered  a  better  school  in  Pitts- 
burgh with  increased  remuneration. 

Clerical  friends  among  the  Dominican  Fathers 
in  Ohio,  old  friends  and  companions  in  Ireland,  in- 
duced him  to  come  close  to  them  in  Lancaster,  Ohio. 
This  invitation  westward  was  backed  by  a  letter 
from  the  Hon.  Thomas  Ewing,  Senator  from  Ohio 
from  1831  to  1837,  and  afterwards  Secretary  of  the 
Interior,  and  father-in-law  of  General  Sherman.  He 
was  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  under  President  Har- 
rison in  1841,  Secretary  of  the  Interior  under  Presi- 


28         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

dent  Taylor  in  1849,  and  then  Justice  of  the  Supreme 

Court. 

Lancaster  at  that  time  was  the  residence  town 
of  some  of  the  oldest  and  wealthiest  families  of 
Ohio.  The  West  was  no  longer  an  unknown  land 
to  the  Atlantic  front  of  our  country.  Cincinnati 
was  recognized  as  the  point  where  civilization  was 
free  from  the  presence  of  the  red-man.  The  few 
railroads  skirted  along  the  Atlantic  coast  and  were 
more  or  less  an  experiment.  Capital  could  not 
think  of  risking  tunnels  through  the  mountains  or 
of  building  over  them  for  a  few  scattered  citizens 
living  along  western  water  streams."  Flatboats 
were  creaking  under  the  weight  of  freight  from 
Pittsburgh  to  Cincinnati  and  west  to  where  the 
Ohio  mingles  with  the  Mississippi.  Passenger  steam- 
boats were  sources  of  pleasure  and  convenience  for 
the  west  and  southbound  passengers  on  the  Ohio. 
Cincinnati  was  to  the  Ohio  River  what  New  York, 
Boston  and  Philadelphia  were  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean 

it  was  a  point  of  entry  and  exit.  The  Cincinnatian 

was  growing  in  wealth  and  he  needed  a  suburban 
town  in  which  to  sleep,  to  live,  and  to  have  his  chil- 
dren educated,  and  Lancaster  shared  this  benefit 
with  Somerset.  Mr.  Donnelly  grasped  this  offer  to 
teach  the  "gentry's"  children.  It  is  not  a  weakness 
in  nature  to  look  high  and  go  upwards.  Donnelly 
was  quick  in  taking  advantage  of  such  an  oppor- 
tunity. Upon  his  arrival  in  Lancaster  he  was  wel- 
comed by  Father  Martin  and  Father  Young,  Domini- 
can priests.  They  introduced  him  to  Senator 
Ewing.  Mrs.  Ewing  was  a  Catholic  and  insisted 
that  the  new  teacher  should  consider  her  house  his 
home.  Some  of  the  Ewing  children  were  among  the 
first  enrolled  in  his  school.  While  in  Lancaster,  Mr. 
Donnelly  was  treated  as  one  of  the  Ewing  house- 
hold. In  after  years  when  Mr.  Donnelly  was  the 
Catholic  pastor  of  Kansas  City,  Hugh  Boyle  Ewing, 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         29 

the  son  of  Senator  Ewing,  and  William  Tecumseh 
Sherman,  the  son-in-law  of  Senator  Ewing,  were 
practicing  law  at  Leavenworth,  Kansas  (1858-9). 
They  renewed  their  old  acquaintance  and  visited 
each  other  frequently. 

Father  Donnelly  until  his  last  sickness  kept 
"The  School  Roll"  of  his  pupils  at  Lancaster.  But 
the  pupil  he  was  proudest  of  and  whose  deeds  of 
valor  and  generalship  he  was  forever  extolling  was 
General  Philip  Henry  Sheridan.  The  General's 
father  was  born  in  County  Cavan  and  that  fact  was 
something  Father  Donnelly  never  failed  to  mention 
in  his  reminiscent  moods.  The  General  wrote  his 
memoirs  a  few  years  before  his  death.  He  gave 
some  space  in  the  book  to  schoolboy  days.  He  tells 
some  interesting  and  amusing  stories  of  his  Irish 
schoolmaster  in  Ohio.  While  paying  tribute  to  the 
ability  of  the  teacher,  he  lauds  his  cunning.  He  tells 
that  whenever  anything  serious  went  amiss  he  never 
failed  punishing  the  guilty  youth,  for  he  always 
flogged  the  whole  school.  But  for  the  teacher,  Mr. 
Donnelly,  then  a  priest,  he  substituted  another  name. 
When  General  Sheridan  was  in  charge  of  the  middle 
or  western  division  of  the  army,  with  headquarters 
in  Chicago,  he  frequently  stopped  over  at  Kansas 
City  on  his  way  west  or  from  Kansas  during  the 
Indian  uprisings.  He  invariably  called  on  Father 
Donnelly.  The  General  was  a  good  raconteur  and 
told  many  amusing  stories  of  the  days  under  Father 
Donnelly's  tutorship.  He  would  say  to  Father  Don- 
nelly :  "You  were  the  best  teacher  I  had  before  go- 
ing to  West  Point — you  were  the  only  one."  Father 
Donnelly's  repartee  was :  "Phil,  you  were  my  best 
pupil.  You  rarely  prepared  your  lessons,  until  after 
a  shaking  up,  and  you  trampled  on  every  rule  of  the 
school.  But  I  always  had  a  soft  place  in  my  heart 
for  you — you  could  whip  every  lad  in  the  class." 
When  Sheridan,  in  1879,  was  about  to  marry,  he 


30         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

wrote  Father  Donnelly  inviting  him  to  perform  the 
ceremony.  The  old  priest  keenly  appreciated  the 
honor,  but  sickness  had  weakened  him  and  his  end 
was  fast  approaching,  and  he  could  not  comply. 

While  in  Ohio  Mr.  Donnelly  had  a  friend  and 
admirer  in  Archbishop  Purcell  of  Cincinnati.  He 
consulted  the  Archbishop  on  his  vocation  to  the 
priesthood.  Ohio  seemed  far  west,  but  Donnelly  ex- 
pressed a  preference  for  location  and  work  farther 
from  the  confines  of  civilization.  Ohio  was  well 
dotted  with  growing  towns.  He  would  prefer  the 
prairies  or  the  mountains  for  health  and  labor,  where 
the  laborers  in  the  vineyard  were  few  and  far  be- 
tween. Archbishop  Purcell  replied  that  he  was  sure 
he  would  make  an  efficient  priest  and  used  his  good 
offices  with  Bishop  Kenrick  of  St.  Louis,  to  accept 
his  friend  into  the  St.  Louis  diocese.  Mr.  Donnelly 
was  immediately  enrolled  on  the  list  of  ecclesiastical 
students  for  St.  Louis  and  in  a  little  while  entered 
St.  Mary's  Seminary  of  the  Barrens,  in  Perry  Coun- 
ty, Missouri,  eighty  miles  south  of  St.  Louis. 

Nicknaming  has  always  been  a  strong  habit  in 
America.  The  "funny  man"  or  the  man  who  sees  a 
strong  resemblance  in  a  person  or  place  to  some  con- 
dition or  extravagance  elsewhere,  immediately  rec- 
ollects the  likeness  and  to  arouse  a  laugh  mentions 
what  he  imagines  the  original.  The  aptness  pro- 
duces the  laugh  and  a  name  is  made  which  is  last- 
ing. Perry  County  was  covered  with  timber,  but  a 
few  spots  of  prairie  were  found  here  and  there  in 
the  woods.  These  spots,  barren  of  trees  but  rich  in 
productive  soil,  received  among  the  pioneer  settlers 
the  name  of  "barrens."  The  name  of  a  few  spots 
became  the  name  of  the  surrounding  country.  Here 
in  the  spring  of  1818  Bishop  Dubourg  located  the 
newly  arrived  Vincentian  or  Lazarist  Fathers.  The 
Superior  of  the  Lazarists,  Father  Felix  De  Andreis, 
who  was  born  December  13th,  1778,  at  Demonte,  a 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         31 

considerable  hamlet  in  the  present  diocese  and  for- 
mer province  of  Cuneo,  Piedmont,  Italy,  with  four 
priests  and  one  lay  brother,  came  from  the  city 
of  Rome  at  the  invitation  of  Bishop  Dubourg 
and  took  charge  of  a  college  in  St.  Louis  and 
did  missionary  work  among  the  pioneer  Cath- 
olics in  the  vicinity.  Father  De  Andreis  had 
been  a  professor  of  theology  in  Rome  from  1806 
to  1815.  His  learning  and  eloquence  immediately 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  Eternal  City.  Profes- 
sors from  the  other  colleges  were  often  seen  among 
his  auditors.  Cardinal  Delia  Somaglia  was  a  fre- 
quent listener  to  the  young  professor's  lectures.  He 
admired  not  only  the  solidity  and  beauty  of  his  dis- 
courses but  the  piety  and  unction  with  which  he 
spoke.  The  Cardinal,  in  an  audience  with  Pope  Pius 
VII,  said:  "Holy  Father,  I  have  found  out  lately  a 
treasure  of  science  and  piety  in  a  priest  of  the  Mis- 
sion at  Monte  Citorio ;  his  name  is  Felix  De  Andreis 
and  he  is  yet  quite  young.  I  heard  him  speak  sev- 
eral times  on  the  dignity  and  duties  of  the  priest- 
hood and  he  pleased  me  much,  so  that  I  seemed  to 
hear  a  St.  John  Chrysostom  or  a  St.  Bernard."  En- 
raptured at  these  words,  the  Sovereign  Pontiff 
immediately  replied:  "We  must  not  lose  sight  of 
this  young  man,  for  it  is  with  such  as  he  that  we 
should  fill  the  episcopal  sees." 

In  one  of  the  most  perilous  and  prolonged 
pontificates  in  the  history  of  the  Church,  his  king- 
dom wrested  from  him,  his  city  robbed  of  most 
precious  inheritances,  the  sanctuaries  despoiled  of 
costly  gifts,  his  libraries  and  art  galleries  laid  bare 
of  their  books  and  paintings,  and  he  himself  a 
prisoner  in  another  land,  with  war  raging  the 
world  over,  millions  of  his  children  murdered  to 
satisfy  the  ambition  of  a  man  who  laughed  at  him 
and  defied  him,  Pius  VII  lost  sight  of  the  young 
man  so  worthy  of  the  episcopate.     And  how  for- 


32         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

tunate  for  the  young  man  that  fate  did  not  give 
him  the  mitre!  He  would  have  died  in  some  ob- 
scure diocese  with  a  world  of  good  never  accom- 
plished. Instead,  he  breathed  his  last  after  years 
spent  in  the  great  work  of  helping  mankind  spir- 
itually and  mentally.  He  leaves  the  impress  of 
his  plans  and  the  wishes  of  his  soul  on  the  great 
men  who  followed  where  he  began.  His  sanctity 
and  learning  were  perpetuated  in  the  Rosatti,  the 
De  Neckere,  the  Odin,  the  Timon,  the  Ryan,  the 
Lynch,  the  Amat,  archbishops  and  bishops,  all 
learned  and  holy  men.  He  lives  in  the  lives  of 
the  hundreds  of  able  professors  and  true  exem- 
plars of  piety  and  learning  who  taught  and  teach 
in  the  seminaries  and  colleges  and  universities  at 
the  Barrens,  Cape  Girardeau,  New  Orleans,  Niag- 
ara Falls,  Brooklyn,  Germantown,  Chicago,  Dal- 
las, Denver,  Los  Angeles,  and  the  Kenrick  Semi- 
nary of  St.  Louis.  The  eminent  Professor  Torna- 
tori,  to  whose  training  in  learning  and  sanctity 
the  American  Church  is  indebted  for  its  greatest 
light  in  the  Episcopacy,  Francis  Patrick  Kenrick, 
Archbishop  of  Baltimore,  was  a  Lazarist  professor 
at  Rome  and  at  the  Barrens.  Fathers  Alizeri  and 
Lavazeri,  Lazarists  both,  gave  a  fame  to  their 
Father  De  Andreis  by  their  lore  and  the  training 
imparted  to  the  priests  and  bishops  who  studied 
under  them.  The  Very  Reverend  Father  John 
McGary,  the  second  superior  of  Mount  St.  Mary's, 
Emmetsburg,  who  saw  a  genius  in  the  young  John 
Hughes,  the  gardener,  and  trained  him  for  the 
priesthood  and  lived  to  see  him  the  immortal  Arch- 
bishop of  New  York,  left  his  Eastern  home  and 
joined  the  Lazarists  and  spent  the  last  thirty  years 
of  his  long  life  as  a  professor  at  Cape  Girardeau. 


CHAPTER  III. 
HE  BECOMES  A  PRIEST. 


XT  was  to  the  Barrens  Mr.  Donnelly  traced 
his  steps  when  he  left  his  school  at  Lan- 
caster to  prepare  for  tne  priesthood.  His 
knowledge  of  higher  mathematics,  of  Eng- 
lish, Greek  and  Latin,  brought  him  up  to  philos- 
ophy and  theology,  and  gave  him  time  to  aid  the 
professors  in  the  branches  in  which  he  ably  qual- 
ified. He  never  tired  of  telling  of  the  happy  days 
he  spent  at  the  Barrens.  He  mentioned  the  names 
of  every  professor  during  and  before  his  time,  and 
could  tell  where  and  when  they  were  born  and 
the  date  of  each  one's  death.  Gratitude  was  a 
part  of  his  nature:  he  never  forgot  a  kindness, 
and,  to  be  true  to  the  real  man,  he  never  forgot 
any  act  of  unkindness  done  him. 

Nearly  three  years  of  study  and  preparation 
for  the  priesthood  brought  him  up  to  the  Sanctu- 
ary. He  was  ordained  priest  by  Bishop  P.  R.  Ken- 
rick  in  the  year  1845. 

Father  Patrick  O'Brien,  who  built  St.  John's 
and  St.  Michael's  churches  in  St.  Louis,  a  man  of 
great  piety  and  well  grounded  in  theology  and  a 
student  all  his  life,  always  referred  to  his  old 
classmate,  Bernard  Donnelly,  as  the  brightest 
scholar  in  his  day  at  the  Barrens.  Father  William 
Wheeler,  who  for  twenty-five  years  was  a  priest 
of  St.  Louis  always  connected  with  a  city  parish, 
was  a  graduate  of  Maynooth  College,  Ireland.  He 
was  ordained  one  year  before  Father  Donnelly. 
After  ordination  he  was  appointed  assistant  to 
Father  George  Hamilton,  who  started  St.  Pat- 
rick's Parish  but  left  for  Boston  before  the  com- 
pletion  of  the    church.      Father   Lutz    succeeded 


34         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

Father  Hamilton  and  left  the  diocese  and  was 
pastor  for  years  of  a  church  in  New  York  City. 
The  roof  was  barely  on  the  walls  of  the  edifice 
when  Father  Wheeler  became  pastor.  He  was  a 
graduate,  also,  of  the  college  in  Dublin,  a  class- 
mate of  Mr.  Donnelly  there  and  afterwards  at  the 
Barrens.  His  estimate  of  Mr.  Donnelly  as  a  stu- 
dent was  of  the  very  highest  order.  He  visited 
Father  Donnelly  at  Independence.  In  a  letter  to 
the  St.  Louis  News-Letter  in  1847  while  he  was 
West,  speaking  of  Father  Donnelly  he  said: 
"I  was  free  to  say  even  to  the  Archbishop  that 
it  was  an  injustice  to  Father  Donnelly  to  send  him 
outside  of  civilization,  for  there  is  not  a  priest  in 
the  arch-diocese  as  well  equipped  mentally  as  he. 
He  is  an  omnivorous  reader  and  conversant  with 
several  languages,  besides  his  grace  and  aptitude 
for  church  ceremonial  have  properly  kept  him 
before  the  public  eye  as  Master  of  Ceremonies 
Sunday  after  Sunday  and  during  Holy  Week  at 
the  Cathedral,  at  the  laying  of  corner-stones  of 
St.  Mary's,  St.  Patrick's  and  St.  Joseph's  Churches, 
at  ordinations,  consecrations,  and  church  dedica- 
tions. He  will  be  lost  in  the  land  of  the  Indian 
and  the  rude  trapper.  Besides  his  manners  are 
courtly  and  suited  for  the  culture  and  refinement 
of  a  city." 

In  his  "Recollections  of  Twenty-five  Years  in 
St.  Louis,"  Father  Wheeler  in  July,  1869,  speak- 
ing again  of  Father  Donnelly,  says:  "In  my  let- 
ters about  a  western  town  in  1847  I  wrote  that 
Father  Donnelly  was  intellectually  and  socially 
too  refined  a  priest  for  work  among  Indians  and 
trappers.  I  now  say  of  him  that,  like  St.  Paul, 
he  is  all  things  to  all  men.  While  educated  and 
distinguished  in  manner  he  can  and  has  worked 
like  the  tireless  apostle  he  is.     What  a  bishop  he 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  35 

would  be !    The  East  or  the  West  would  be  equally 
proud  of  him." 

The  morning  of  his  ordination  Father  Don- 
nelly was  appointed  pastor  of  Independence,  Jack- 
son County,  Missouri.  His  Grace  readily  granted 
the  young  priest's  request  to  spend  a  week  with 
the  pastor  of  Old  Mines,  Missouri.  He  lost  no 
time  in  hiring  a  horse  to  convey  him  to  the  mission 
of  his  old  friend.  His  Reverence  knew  a  horse  to 
see  him,  but  never  had  owned  a  horse.  When  he 
rode  behind  a  horse  someone  else  held  the  lines. 
The  horse  he  bargained  for  was  tall  and  not  over- 
fed, and  perhaps  it  was  hunger  that  made  him 
skittish.  There  were  marks  on  sides  and  hips  that 
looked  as  if  they  had  been  worn  into  the  skin  by 
rubbing  against  fences  and  trees.  The  newly  or- 
dained asked  many  questions  of  the  stableman 
before  even  approaching  the  saddle.  The  answers 
he  received  were  not  assuring.  "Yes,  the  horse 
had  run  away  in  his  time,  and  had  unseated  his 
riders  on  a  few  occasions,  but  it  was  the  awkward- 
ness of  the  mounts  rather  than  the  perversity  of 
the  animal.  This  'hoss'  is  all  right,  take  my  word 
for  it."  "Couldn't  you  give  your  word  to  the  horse 
to  treat  me  as  square  as  I'll  treat  him?"  said  His 
Reverence.  "All  right,"  came  the  hostler;  then 
in  mock  earnestness  he  whispered  to  the  horse, 
"This  is  a  good  man,  you  be  a  good  hoss."  That 
was  enough.  So  with  a  lift  from  the  horseman 
Father  Donnelly  was  soon  mounted,  but  not  easy 
at  all.  Then  came  the  starting  that  was  satisfac- 
tory at  least  to  the  man  in  the  saddle.  The  horse's 
head,  with  the  helping  hand  of  his  attendant,  was 
directed  southward,  for  Old  Mines  lay  in  a  south- 
west direction.  Father  Donnelly  was  beginning 
to  feel  at  comfort  and  had  just  said  to  himself, 
"Why,  horseback  riding  isn't  such  a  difficult  thing 
as  I  was  led  to  believe,"  when  a  hatless  boy  rider 


36         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

with  a  halter  for  a  bridle  passed  Father  Donnelly's 
horse  like  a  shot,  but  not  too  swiftly  to  give  the 
rented  animal  a  blow  with  a  stick  he  held  in  his 
free  hand.  The  priest's  recollection  was  that  his 
hat  flew  from  his  head,  his  body  began  to  rise  and 
fall  upon  the  saddle,  the  stirrups  slipped  from  his 
feet,  and  the  world  around  appeared  to  flee  back- 
wards with  the  velocity  of  a  falling  star.  Passers- 
by  stopped  and  laughed  and  shouted — he  could 
hear  but  did  not  deign  a  reply.  The  moment  came 
as  it  always  comes  when  a  horse  is  running  away 
at  breakneck  speed  with  a  green  rider;  the  horse 
gave  a  sudden  jolt,  and  the  Father  felt  he  was  in 
the  air,  and  in  less  than  a  second  was  sure  he  was 
on  the  hard  earth.  It  was  not  his  head  that  made 
the  connection,  and  the  shock  of  the  fall  did  not 
rob  him  of  consciousness.  He  was  alone,  fortu- 
nately with  no  scoffer  in  sight,  and  that  was  some- 
thing if  not  a  consolation.  A  first,  then  a  second 
effort  to  rise,  and  he  was  on  his  feet.  He  felt  he 
was  pale,  he  knew  he  was  in  pain.  There  were  a 
few  rents  in  his  brand-new  suit,  and  his  black  gar- 
ments were  covered  with  dust  from  much-ground 
macadam.  The  horse — well,  he  was  out  of  sight. 
Father  Donnelly  was  gifted  with  the  vocabulary 
of  his  countrymen  and  admitted  that  he  did  not 
send  blessings  after  the  uncanny  fiend.  Then  the 
hat.  His  idea  of  time  and  distance  was  very  vague 
just  then.  What  was  the  use  of  going  back  to 
search?  It  might  be  a  mile  or  more  to  the  north; 
it  might  have  been  five  minutes  or  half  an  hour 
ago  since  the  hat  deserted  him.  Backwards  had 
no  happy  recollections,  so  he  would  go  right 
ahead.  It  was  not  long  until  he  recognised  the 
old-fashioned  cottages  of  Carondelet.  He  directed 
his  steps  to  the  home  of  Father  Saulnier.  Father 
Saulnier  was  a  jolly  old  soul  and  received  the 
young  priest  with  a  hearty  laugh  and  told  his  own 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  37 

experience  of  many  years  with  horses.  He  told 
Father  Donnelly  that  he  would  send  out  messen- 
gers to  find  the  runaway  horse,  but  Donnelly  said, 
"No,  I  don't  want  to  lay  my  eyes  on  the  villain." 
After  much  persuasion  he  was  prevailed  on  to 
spend  the  night  with  the  venerable  missionary. 
Early  next  morning  Father  Saulnier  hired  a  slow- 
going  animal  and  Donnelly  proceeded  on  his  way. 
When  asked  how  he  fared  with  the  second  ven- 
ture his  reply  was:  "One  horse  story  at  a  time  is 
enough."  He  reached  his  destination,  but  the 
very  day  after  his  arrival  a  letter  from  the  Bishop, 
expressing  regret  that  he  had  to  interfere  with 
his  pleasant  visit,  told  him  to  come  immediately 
to  St.  Louis  and  take  the  first  boat  for  Independ- 
ence. Father  Thomas  Burke  and  another  Lazarist 
Father  were  awaiting  him  in  his  new  mission. 
They  were  in  Independence  and  felt  they  ought 
to  stay  there  until  his  arrival.  They  had  many 
things  to  tell  him  about  the  territory  which  his 
mission  covered. 

Some  months  previously  the  bishop  had  re- 
quested Father  Burke  and  his  Lazarist  companion 
to  visit  southwest  Missouri  from  the  Arkansas  line 
to  what  is  now  the  line  dividing  Oklahoma  and 
Missouri,  and  north  to  the  Kaw  River,  and  east 
to  a  point  running  south  from  Lexington.  He  in- 
structed them  to  find  Catholics  and  report  to  him 
where  resident  pastors  might  be  located.  To  the 
Lazarists  this  was  not  such  a  long  and  unusual 
journey,  accustomed  as  they  were  to  go  on  horse- 
back from  the  Barrens  to  Texas  and  from  one  end 
of  that  extensive  country  to  the  other.  Father 
Timon  and  companions,  and  his  predecessors, 
made  the  journey  frequently.  They  were  the  mis- 
sionaries in  Texas  during  the  forties  and  fifties, 
as  the  Jesuits  were  missionaries  at  the  same  time 
in  the  district  now  covered  by  western  Missouri 


38  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

and  eastern  Kansas.  Father  Burke  gave  a  full 
report  of  the  conditions  in  the  vast  area  he  and 
his  companion  traversed.  Independence  and  Deep- 
water  were  selected  for  residences  for  pastors. 
Deepwater  did  not  receive  its  pastor  as  early  as 
did  Independence.  This  appointment  ended  the 
missionary  duties  of  the  Jesuits  in  this  region. 

Father  Donnelly  did  not  lose  a  moment  in  obey- 
ing the  orders  to  start  for  his  new  home  and  his 
first  work  as  a  priest.  Such  a  parish,  if  you  will! 
Only  the  two  Lazarists  could  tell  him  what  it  physi- 
cally looked  like.  Father  Burke  prided  himself  on 
being  a  man  of  common  sense  devoid  of  poetic  con- 
ceptions, and  what  he  told  Father  Donnelly  about 
his  new  charge  was  in  very  plain  language  and  in 
no  way  laudatory  of  the  mountain  scenery,  limpid 
streams  and  good  sized  cataradts  in  his  mission.  He 
no  doubt  recommended  a  few  lessons  in  horseback 
riding  and  suggested  some  helpful  liniments  to  ease 
pain  and  remove  bruises.  He  surely  did  not  omit 
recommending  a  convenient  and  capacious  style  of 
saddle  bags  and  the  warmest  make  of  blankets. 
Matches  had  come  from  inventors  and  manufaturers 
in  the  far  East  in  1827  and  were  not  looked  upon 
acceptably  this  side  of  the  Mississippi.  The  steel 
and  flint  stone  would  make  sparks  enough  to  burn 
wet  wood — matches  might  catch  fire  in  one's  pocket, 
the  western  pioneers  said.  He  would  require  buck- 
skin gloves  extending  to  the  elbow,  boots  that  would 
reach  to  the  knees,  a  heavy  fur  cap  with  lapels  to 
cover  the  ears.  The  face  and  nose  were  to  remain 
exposed  to  the  blasts  from  the  Rockies  and  what 
were  called  the  "gentle  zephyrs"  of  the  prairies,  and 
when  frozen  were  to  be  rubbed  with  snow  or  ice 
until  they  became  sensible  to  touch  and  returned  to 
natural  color.  "Put  aside  the  tall  hat ;  the  wild  look- 
ing people  out  here  might  shoot  holes  through  it,  and 
the  Indians  might  take  you  for  a  wicked  and  de- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  39 

signing  American  medicine  man.  You'll  travel  many 
a  day  to  take  in  your  great  district.  The  air  out 
here  is  very  appetizing,  and  you  will  be  able  to  eat 
anything  put  before  you.  Keep  yourself  in  the 
friendship  of  God  and  like  St.  Patrick  the  very 
snakes  will  run  away  from  you.  As  you  are  a  canny 
North  of  Ireland  man,  take  it  from  me,  you'll  give 
more  out  here  then  you'll  ever  get." 


© 


CHAPTER  IV. 
HIS  PARISH. 

EFORE  departing  for  St.  Louis,  Father 
Burke  handed  the  new  pastor  the  latest 
map  of  Missouri  and  with  lead  pencil 
marked  out  his  parish.  The  extent  of  the 
parish  we  may  estimate  in  square  miles.  The  annual 
Catholic  Church  Directory  states  that  the  diocese  of 
Kansas  City,  Missouri,  covers  23,539  square  miles. 
Deduct  about  one-third,  which  seems  too  much,  al- 
lowing for  the  counties  of  Lafayette  and  all  directly 
south,  and  you  see  the  vast  space  Father  Donnelly 
had  to  traverse.  Lafayette  had  a  pastor  at  Lexing- 
ton whose  mission  went  directly  south  of  his  county 
down  to  Arkansas.  Father  Donnelly  was  commis- 
sioned to  look  after  the  spiritual  wants  of  Catholics 
in  the  balance  of  the  territory  of  the  present  Kansas 
City  diocese.  In  a  communication  to  the  Catholic 
Banner  dated  April,  1879,  Father  Donnelly  touches 
on  his  interview  with  Father  Burke.    He  wrote : 

"Dear  Catholic  Banner:  I  was  appointed  pas- 
tor of  Independence  in  1845  within  a  few  hours 
after  my  ordination.  I  asked  Bishop  P.  R.  Kenrick 
if  I  might  spend  a  few  days  with  an  old  friend  and 
companion  of  early  days,  the  pastor  of  Old  Mines. 
The  permission  was  granted  and  I  left  that  very 
afternoon.  The  next  day  after  my  arrival  at  Old 
Mines  a  letter  came  from  the  bishop  telling  me  to 
return  to  St.  Louis  without  delay  and  take  the  first 
boat  westward  for  Independence.  It  was  Father  T. 
Burke,  C.  M.,  who  after  months  of  riding  over  south- 
west Missouri,  wrote  Bishop  Kenrick  that  Independ- 
ence would  make  a  center  from  which  a  pastor  might 
radiate  to  all  points  from  the  Kaw  River  to  Arkan- 
sas and  from  the  parish  of  Lexington  to  the  west 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  41 

line  of  Missouri.  A  soldier  never  responded  quicker 
to  the  command  of  his  General  than  did  I.  My  re- 
turn was  speedier  and  safer  than  my  journey  of  a 
few  days  previous.  It  was  under  the  guidance  of  my 
reverend  friend,  the  pastor  of  Old  Mines.  With  an- 
other Lazarist  priest,  Father  Burke  was  to  wait  my 
coming  at  Independence.  Instead  he  met  me  at 
Kanzas  as  I  got  off  the  boat.  Father  B.  was  one 
of  my  professors  at  the  Barrens.  He  handed  me 
a  large  map  of  Missouri  with  my  parish  cleverly 
drawn  out  in  ink.  I  had  learned  before  my  ordina- 
tion that  Father  B.  was  on  a  tour  of  investiga- 
tion by  order  of  the  bishop.  'Here,'  said  he,  point- 
ing out  Independence,  'you  are  resident  pastor,' 
then  touching  the  point  marked  Kanzas,  'this  will  be 
one  of  your  missions  for  the  present,  at  least.'  Then 
a  third  round  mark  or  dot:  'Here  is  Deepwater — 
this  will  be  your  third  mission.  And  your  fourth 
mission — will  be  the  balance  of  Missouri  down  to 
Arkansas  and  west  to  the  Territory.'  I  asked  him 
about  the  church  at  Independence.  'There  is  no 
church  or  a  house  for  you — that's  what  you  are  sent 
here  for,  to  build  them.  There  is  some  property  for 
a  church  willed  by  Bishop  Rosatti.'  This  encourag- 
ing information  was  given  me  as  we  sat  in  a  room 
of  the  only  hotel  in  Kanzas." 

The  few  days  Father  Burke  remained  were 
made  helpful  for  the  new  pastor.  Father  Burke  had 
experience  as  a  traveling  missionary  in  Texas  and 
had  done  parish  work  at  the  Barrens  and  at  Cape 
Girardeau,  and  as  far  south  as  New  Madrid.  He 
was  gifted  with  a  hard  practical  mind  and  emphatic 
views.  He  had  a  trite  saying  that  he  frequently  re- 
peated :  "The  only  college  I  ever  graduated  in  was 
the  College  of  Common  Sense."  Father  Donnelly 
on  application  would  have  been  entitled  to  a  degree 
in  the  same  college. 


42  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

For  some  little  time  Father  Donnelly  was 
busy  trying  to  solve  a  problem  never  suggested  by 
the  Lazarist.  Father  Donnelly  was  a  man  at  this 
period  advanced  in  his  forties.  The  great  struggle 
from  boyhood  was  not  how  to  master  his  studies 
but  how  to  make  life  easy  for  his  beloved  father 
and  mother.  He  knew  the  world  and  its  selfish- 
ness much  better  than  did  Father  Burke  who  had 
a  home  and  comfort  in  every  house  of  his  com- 
munity the  world  over.  If  he  had  been  fortunate 
enough  to  save  any  money  from  his  earnings 
abroad  and  his  salary  in  America  his  mind  must 
have  been  at  rest  as  he  saw  what  was  before  him. 
If  his  fare  from  St.  Louis  to  Independence  had 
been  advanced  by  his  bishop,  it  was  as  much  as 
the  diocese  could  afford. 

When  Bishop  Kenrick  took  charge  of  his 
western  see  he  found  the  new  cathedral  very  much 
involved  in  debt.  He  called  the  Catholics  of  the 
city  to  a  meeting,  read  a  statement  of  the  financial 
encumbrance,  and  asked  that  they  would  at  least 
reduce  the  indebtedness.  His  appeal  was  met 
with  silence.  Not  one  cent  was  contributed.  This 
was  in  1843.  St.  Louis  was  largely  Catholic  then. 
Mullanphy,  Chouteau,  Soulard,  Provenchere,  Bid- 
die,  Lucas,  Hunt,  and  many  other  wealthy  men 
attended  the  called  meeting.  Owners  of  steam- 
boats and  the  heads  of  the  trapping  and  fur  in- 
dustries from  St.  Louis  to  the  headwaters  of  the 
Missouri,  bankers,  merchants,  judges  of  the  courts, 
and  men  rich  in  hundreds  of  acres  of  land  in  and 
around  St.  Louis  were  there  but  they  had  nothing 

to  offer. 

In  what  ratio  would  Catholic  generosity  show 
itself  beginning  at  St.  Louis  and  going  westward  to 
Independence?  At  no  time  was  Father  Donnelly 
what  might  be  called  sanguine,  except  in  the  be- 
lief of  Kansas  City's  coming  greatness.     The  few 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  43 

years  at  the  Barrens  and  in  the  St.  Louis  Seminary 
were  the  only  periods  of  his  life  when  he  lived 
night  and  day  in  the  companionship  of  others.  He 
was  never  lonesome  when  by  himself.  He  would 
go  to  work  without  delay.  Work  solves  life's 
greatest  puzzles  in  war  and  peace,  in  fortune  mak- 
ing, and  in  building  up  great  enterprises.  He 
rented  a  room  from  a  Catholic  family  named  Gil- 
son.  There  was  no  church  or  home  awaiting  him 
at  Independence.  The  Catholics  there  did  not  ask 
for  a  resident  pastor;  they  were  satisfied  with  the 
services  of  religion  given  at  intervals  by  the  Jesuit 
missionaries  from  the  Territory.  Father  Donnelly 
quickly  grasped  his  opportunities  in  his  two  little 
villages.  In  Kansas  City  with  its  come  day,  go 
day,  people,  and  in  Independence  with  its  more 
stable  population,  he  saw  a  sample  of  the  same 
western  lack  of  generosity  experienced  by  the 
bishop  in  his  appeal  at  St.  Louis.  The  Apostles 
began  the  great  work  of  God  among  men  without 
any  visible  gratuities,  but  the  Apostles  built  no 
churches,  schools,  or  parish  houses.  The  new 
Christians  threw  gold  at  the  feet  of  Peter  and 
Paul,  but  it  is  to  be  believed  that  gold  was  not  in 
large  quantities — just  enough  to  support  them  and 
pay  their  expenses  going  from  place  to  place.  But 
pondering  on  conditions  would  never  accomplish 
what  was  before  him,  and  Father  Donnelly  started 
out  to  beg  money  from  Catholics  and  non-Catholics 
with  which  to  buy  property  for  a  cemetery  and 
build  the  necessary  structures  for  the  parish. 
Business  men  and  property  holders  in  new  towns 
have  an  ambition  to  see  their  home  cities  grow  and 
are  willing  to  help  on  in  any  way  to  that  end.  A 
church  attracts  the  passerby.  It  is  a  sign  of  pros- 
perity and  presages  a  future  for  the  new  settlement. 
A  school  is  looked  for  when  one  is  traveling  to  make 
a  new  home  for  himself  and  family.     The  years 


44  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

1845  and  1846  saw  a  tide  of  population  flowing 
westward.  The  Mexican  trade  had  a  starting  place 
from  Independence  and  Kansas  City  to  New  Mexico. 
The  Santa  Fe  Trail  was  opening.  Teams  of  oxen 
were  tugging  along  with  tons  of  merchandise  for 
the  far  Southwest  and  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Re- 
turning conveyances  with  cargoes  of  Mexican  wares 
were  passing  east  for  purchasers  in  St.  Louis  and 
points  farther  east  and  south.  Nearly  all  these 
western  commodities  were  unloaded  on  steamboats 
at  the  landings  at  Kansas  City  and  at  Shelby  Land- 
ing, a  few  miles  east  and  south  of  Independence. 
Father  Donnelly  saw  his  opportunity.  He  pleaded 
everywhere  and  from  everybody.  Property  for  a 
church  was  willed  by  Bishop  Rosatti.  His  church 
was  soon  purchased.  It  was  a  frame  building,  24 
by  36  feet,  which  had  been  erected  for  a  wagon 
shop,  and  cost  $250.00.  The  graveyard  of  ten  acres 
was  next  acquired ;  a  residence  for  the  pastor  quickly 
followed;  and  then  the  great  object  of  his  heart, 
a  school  house,  made  the  parish  complete.  He  did 
not  wait  for  a  school  building  to  look  after  the  train- 
ing of  his  little  children,  for  he  used  the  church  for 
a  school.  Out  of  his  many  cares,  Father  Donnelly 
gave  the  school  several  hours  every  day.  He  was 
the  first  teacher  as  well  as  the  first  pastor  of  Inde- 
pendence. He  soon  introduced  into  the  new  school 
building  a  highly  competent  teacher,  Miss  Mullins, 
a  sister  of  the  leading  merchant  at  Independence 
Landing. 

Arrivals  from  the  East  in  most  instances  came 
by  way  of  steamboats  which  landed  them  at  Kanzas. 
A  few  left  the  boats  at  Shelby  Landing,  near  Inde- 
pendence. Independence  is  the  county  seat  of  Jack- 
son County,  which  was  made  a  county  of  the  State 
of  Missouri  in  1827.  The  seal  of  the  City  of  Inde- 
pendence harks  back  to  those  days.  The  design 
shows  four  mules  attached  to  the  covered  wagon  or 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  45 

prairie  schooner  used  in  the  Santa  Fe  trade.     Car- 
avans for  the  long  journey  across  the  plains  were 
outfitted   and   organized   at   Independence.      These 
wagons,  of  the  Conestoga  pattern,  were  manufac- 
tured first  at  Pittsburgh,  Pennsylvania,  and  later 
at  Independence.     They  were  covered  with  canvas 
tightly   stretched   over   hickory  bows.     Six,   eight, 
and  even  ten  mules  drew  these  vehicles  in  the  early 
days,  but  after  1829,  when  Major  Riley  employed 
oxen  in  transporting  baggage  and  supplies  for  his 
soldiers,  the  oxen  were  found  to  possess  greater  ad- 
vantages for  this  kind  of  work  and  gradually  re- 
placed the  mules.     The  Santa  Fe  trade  increased 
through  the  years,  but  after  the  Mexican  War  Inde- 
pendence saw  with  dismay  that  Westport  was  be- 
coming the  assembling  place  for  the  caravans  by 
reason  of  its  convenience  to  the  steamboats  which 
landed  at  the  foot  of  Main  Street  in  Kansas  City, 
where  a  ledge  of  limestone  projected  out  against 
the  deep  water.     To  regain  her  prestige  Independ- 
ence built  a  railroad  from  her  public  square  to  the 
Missouri  River,  to  induce  steamboats  to  land  and 
unload  and  so  cut  off  the  river  trade  at  Kansas  City. 
This  was  the  first  railroad  west  of  the  Mississippi 
River.    It  connected  the  river  traffic  with  the  over- 
land wagon  routes.    The  rush  of  Kentuckians,  Ten- 
nesseeans,  and  people  from  the  other  southern  states 
into  the  newly  opened  Jackson  County  ended  at  the 
Blue  River.     Very  few  went  into  the  Kaw  district 
where  the  town  of  Kanzas  was  striving  for  an  exist- 
ence.    The  trapper,  the  hunter,  the  voyageur  from 
Trois  Rivieres,  the  French-Indian  Canadians,  with 
the  few  merchants  buying  and  selling,  made  a  dis- 
tinct and  separate  community.     Kanzas  was  very 
small  and  looked  like  an  impossible  site  for  a  city — 
indeed,  outside  the  range  of  possibility  for  a  future 
greatness.     People  with  teams  could  find  no  room 
in  the  little  front  or  levee  for  themselves  and  their 


46         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

wagons,  and  in  a  circuitous  way  around  the  river 
bend  or  through  one  steep  earth  road  leading  south 
and  east,  they  headed  for  Independence,  which  af- 
forded a  large  plateau,  to  rest.  Taverns  and  stables 
sprang  up  to  meet  the  demands  in  Independence. 
The  merchants  at  Kanzas  hailed  the  daily  boats, 
sold  the  passengers  all  they  needed  for  themselves, 
and  oxen,  mules  and  horses,  then  directed  them  to 
Independence  where  those  same  merchants  owned 
the  taverns  and  hotels  and  boarding  houses.  They 
had  their  warehouses  on  the  Kanzas  levee  and  owned 
the  one  or  two  banks.  Kanzas  had  every  necessity 
for  the  westward-bound  except  resting  accommoda- 
tions. The  travelers  went  as  directed.  They  had 
to  wait  at  Independence  until  the  government  gave 
them  permits  to  travel  west  or  south.  Those  per- 
mits were  handed  them  when  Uncle  Sam  could  af- 
ford a  relay  of  soldiers  to  protect  them  over  prairie 
and  mountain  and  through  hostile  Indian  bands. 
The  Indians  saw  their  doom  at  the  approach  of  the 
cry  "Westward  Ho!"  Independence  boomed  while 
this  condition  obtained. 

Father  Donnelly  received  many  favors  for 
church  and  school.  He  dealt  fairly  with  the  mission 
at  Kanzas  and  solicited  for  the  demands  that  would 
soon  confront  him  there.  The  future  for  him  and 
his  work  directed  him  to  the  port  of  entry  near  the 
Kaw,  the  place  where  enterprise  was  evident.  He 
was  Pastor-Resident  of  Independence,  but  its  day 
could  not  last.  That  city  where  energy  and  com- 
merce were  in  the  ascendant  would  rule,  while 
boarding  places  and  enforced  resting  places  would 
sink  into  obscurity  as  neighboring  towns.  In  the 
height  of  his  prognostications  he  caught  at  his 
breath,  when  news  reached  him  that  a  Father  Saul- 
nier  was  appointed  resident  pastor  of  Kanzas.  Per- 
haps it  was  thought  at  St.  Louis  that  Father  Don- 
nelly's  energies   were   sufficiently   taxed   with   the 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  47 

labors  of  Independence  and  his  annual  visits 
through  the  south  and  west  of  his  larger  territory. 
Father  Saulnier  did  not  try  to  live  in  the  little  log 
resting  rooms.  He  rented  a  comfortable  four-room 
cottage  near  the  river  landing.  He  then  opened  a 
school  in  the  log  church  and  was  its  teacher.  Jack- 
son County  was  then  the  happy  possessor  of  two 
schools,  the  one  under  Father  Donnelly  at  Inde- 
pendence, and  the  other  at  Kanzas.  Father  Saul- 
nier, a  zealous  priest  originally  from  Canada,  stuck 
close  to  his  teaching  and  parish  duties  along  the 
river  front  and  on  the  west  bottoms  and  the  hill 
tops.  His  Canadian  parishioners  and  a  few  Cath- 
olics from  Kentucky  liked  him,  but  not  enough  to 
support  him ;  anyhow,  his  abode  in  Jackson  County 
was  short.  Possibly  he  thought  when  he  came 
West  his  work  would  be  among  the  Indians.  He 
sought  no  help  among  those  outside  of  his  own 
Faith.     Father  Saulnier  returned  to  Canada. 

For  the  second  time  Father  Donnelly  was  left 
to  look  after  the  Catholics  on  the  Missouri  River 
east  of  the  Kaw  River.  He  was  determined  to  keep 
a  very  close  eye  on  the  City  of  Destiny.  With  a 
light  heart  and  renewed  energy  he  once  more  took 
Kanzas  under  his  care.  In  1853  the  inhabitants  of 
Kanzas  organized  themselves  into  a  city.  They 
drew  up  a  charter,  elected  a  mayor,  council,  mar- 
shal and  judge.  Corporate  limits  were  drawn,  with 
Broadway  on  the  west,  Troost  Avenue  on  the  east, 
the  river  on  the  north  and  Independence  Avenue 
on  the  south.  Father  Donnelly  had  been  one  of 
the  first  to  advocate  the  organization  of  a  city.  He 
was  present  at  the  many  meetings  called  for  this 
purpose  and  on  each  occasion  made  a  strong  appeal 
to  throw  aside  township  limitations  and  become  a 
city  with  a  charter.  The  strongest  objection  to  the 
movement  was  the  physical  condition.  Except  for 
the  narrow  strip  of  ground  skirting  the  river,  bluffs 


48         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

as  high  as  little  mountains  were  immediately  to  the 
south  and  west.  The  few  hundred  inhabitants  were 
merchants,  teamsters,  trappers  and  fishermen,  con- 
stantly coming  and  going,  and  nearly  all  living  in 
the  west  and  east  bottoms.  The  property  owners 
were  willing  to  assess  themselves  to  pay  for  all 
necessary  improvements.  But  where  were  they  to 
find  the  contractors?  There  were  no  hardy  shov- 
elers  to  tear  down  the  hills  and  fill  up  the  valleys 
on  the  west.  Father  Donnelly  at  the  public  meet- 
ings met  the  difficulty  by  asking  to  be  deputed 
to  do  so  and  he  would  bring  hundreds  of  Irishmen 
from  the  East  to  dig  and  level  off  and  make  streets 
and  curb  them,  and  construct  sewers.  He  also 
guaranteed  he  would  have  two  men,  friends  of  his 
at  St.  Louis,  who  would  build  a  gas  factory  and  lay 
gas  pipes  to  bring  light  to  homes  and  streets.  They 
joyfully  accepted  his  help.  He  immediately  wrote 
the  Boston  Pilot  and  Freeman's  Journal  of  New 
York  asking  his  countrymen  to  come  to  the  rescue. 
He  offered  them  better  wages  than  they  could  ob- 
tain in  the  East  and  promised  to  pay  their  way 
to  Kansas  City.  He  asked  for  150  men  from  New 
York  and  150  more  from  Boston.  He  put  his  guar- 
antees of  good  faith  in  the  hands  of  trustworthy 
employment  agencies  in  the  two  eastern  cities.  He 
made  his  offer  in  time  to  get  the  laborers  here  on 
the  first  boats  leaving  St.  Louis  in  the  early  spring. 
He  put  a  wise  condition  in  his  contract.  He  in- 
sisted that  all  the  men  be  from  the  same  county 
in  Ireland.  The  readers  who  may  recall  one  of 
the  greatest  drawbacks  to  Irish  laborers  at  that 
time  will  recognize  the  shrewdness  of  the  priest  in 
this  demand.  He  might  have  made  application  by 
way  of  St.  Louis,  but  the  Irish  laborers  there  were 
not  so  numerous  and  were  satisfied  with  their  em- 
ployment and  were  busy  unloading  boats  and  in 
construction  work  on  the  new  railroads  going  north, 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  49 

south  and  west  of  St.  Louis,  and  coming  through 
Illinois  to  reach  St.  Louis. 

When  the  300  men  arrived  it  was  plain  the 
eastern  agencies  had  been  careful  in  selecting  and 
forwarding  willing,  husky  fellows,  and  every  one 
from  the  Province  of  Connaught.  Father  Donnelly 
interviewed  them  and  was  more  than  pleased  to 
learn  that  they  had  to  a  man  labored  on  public 
works  since  their  arrival  in  America.  He  then 
insisted  that  every  man  pledge  himself  to  abstain 
from  liquor,  at  least  while  employed  in  Kansas  City. 
With  this  they  immediately  complied.  He  had  not 
forgotten  his  good  work  in  Father  Matthew's  cause 
in  Liverpool.  Comfortable  quarters  for  sleeping 
and  eating  were  awaiting  them.  They  were  tem- 
porary one-story  buildings  facing  what  is  now  Sixth 
Street  and  running  from  Broadway  to  the  present 
Bluff  Street.  Two  Catholic  families  took  the  con- 
tract to  feed  the  men  and  keep  their  quarters  tidy. 
In  deference  to  their  part  of  Ireland,  their  imme- 
diate district  was  dubbed  Connaught  Town.  Father 
Donnelly  was  attentive  to  their  wants  and  their 
ways.  He  kept  a  strict  watch  on  them,  seeing  that 
they  attended  Mass  and  their  religious  duties  most 
regularly.  As  he  said  one  Mass  in  Kanzas  every 
Sunday  they  had  opportunities  to  attend  the  divine 
service  and  approach  the  Sacraments.  When  the 
hills  were  torn  away  and  other  work  done  some  of 
them  remained  in  Kansas  City;  others  went  west 
or  found  employment  on  farms,  or  faced  eastward. 


CHAPTER  V. 
FATHER  DONNELLY  AND  THE  TEN  ACRES. 


"^^^-^HE  growth  of  Catholics  made  Father  Don- 
d  C\  nelly  think  of  a  new  and  larger  church  edi- 
^^J  fice.  But  an  unexpected  move  on  the  part 
^^^  of  his  parishioners  set  back  the  very 
thought  of  building.  Father  Donnelly's  keen  eye 
and  observing  manner  failed  him  for  once.  He 
had  a  way  of  finding  out  what  people  were  think- 
ing about.  He  was  not  a  mind  reader  but  he  was 
of  a  shrewd  and  inquiring  turn.  He  was  forever 
surmising  and  asking  questions.  He  noticed  the 
people  whispering  as  they  gathered  in  little  knots 
on  the  church  ground  on  Sundays.  He  soon  learned 
that  secret  meetings  were  being  held  at  a  large 
storehouse  owned  by  a  prominent  Catholic.  He 
started  around  making  inquiries.  The  plot  was 
divulged.  They  were  getting  signatures  for  a  peti- 
tion to  Archbishop  Kenrick  asking  him  to  sell  the 
ten  acres  and  two  little  buildings  on  the  property 
and  with  the  proceeds  purchase  a  fifty-foot  lot  with 
a  one-story  empty  storeroom  down  in  the  city.  The 
storeroom  was  larger  than  the  church  they  were 
using.  The  location  was  Second  and  Cherry  Streets, 
adjoining  the  Chouteau  home.  He  did  not  display 
any  feeling  of  opposition,  but  said  the  idea  was  not 
a  bad  one.  When  would  they  hold  their  next  meet- 
ing? He  would  like  to  be  present;  indeed,  he 
thought  he  would  sign  the  petition.  His  name 
would  lend  strength  to  the  request.  He  came  in 
from  Independence  to  be  with  them  at  the  next 
meeting.  The  attendance  was  large  and  repre- 
sentative of  the  parish.  Mr.  P.  Shannon,  a  prom- 
inent merchant  and  afterwards  mayor  of  the  city, 
presided.    The  Jarboes,  Chouteaus,  Guinotte,  Tour- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         51 

geon,  Troost,  and  Mr.  Payne  whose  wife  was  a 
Catholic,  with  many  others,  were  present.  Speeches 
advocating  the  object  of  the  meeting  were  made. 
One  sentiment  ran  through  the  address  and  was 
applauded  by  clapping  of  hands;  the  ten  acres 
should  be  traded  for  the  fifty-foot  lot.  When 
everyone  anxious  to  talk  had  been  heard,  Father 
Donnelly  was  invited  to  take  the  floor.  He  ex- 
pressed great  pleasure  at  the  large  attendance. 
It  showed  the  parishioners  were  interested  in  the 
welfare  of  the  parish.  The  little  hamlet  of  yes- 
terday is  today  a  city;  it  must  have  a  church  and 
this  is  one  of  the  ways  of  getting  it.  "But,"  he 
continued,  "I  find  names  absent  from  the  petition. 
Be  sure  and  get  everyone  in  the  parish  to  sub- 
scribe. There  is  no  particular  hurry.  Take  a  few 
days  more  to  make  a  complete  list  of  Catholics." 
Father  Donnelly  was  with  the  meeting  as  well  as 
in  it.  The  people  had  won  the  pastor.  The  meet- 
ing adjourned.  Father  Donnelly  mounted  his  In- 
dian pony  and  went  home  to  Independence.  He 
immediately  wrote  a  letter  to  the  archbishop  tell- 
ing of  the  meeting,  that  he  was  present  and  had 
signed  the  petition.  "I  did  so,  Your  Grace,  because 
I  recognize  the  shrewdness  of  the  old  Irish  saying, 
'If  you  can't  bate  the  enemy,  jine  him.'  I  beg  you 
that  you  keep  this  letter  a  secret.  You  will  recall 
the  ten  acres  they  wish  to  barter  away  for  a  fifty- 
foot  lot  and  an  unused  frame  storehouse.  Once 
before  Doctor  Troost  and  other  promoters  made 
the  same  request  to  your  Grace.  Kansas  City  has 
thrown  off  the  appearance  of  an  ungainly  but 
lively  little  hamlet.  We  have  dug  down  big  hills 
and  filled  up  deep  ravines.  Our  streets  are  laid 
out  and  macadamized  and  guttered,  and  brick  side- 
walks line  each  side.  We  have  become  citified. 
Our  Catholics  have  all  of  a  sudden  found  out  the 
church  in  the  ten  acres  is  away  off  on  one  of  the 


52         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

few  remaining  hills.  They  begin  to  complain  of 
the  fatigue  of  climbing,  which  all  at  once  has 
become  unbearable.  The  females  of  our  flock  say 
that  going  up  to  the  log  church  is  'horrid'  and  that 
the  streets  in  the  new  city  are  becoming  impossible 
for  shopping  on  Mondays  because  of  the  sticky  yel- 
low mud  carried  down  from  the  church  every  Sun- 
day. Then,  your  Grace,  some  enterprising  real 
estate  men  looking  for  commissions  are  back  of 
the  movement  and  have  aroused  our  people.  The 
other  village  churches  are  looking  for  sites  within 
the  city  limits.  The  city  is  daily  growing  in  pop- 
ulation. The  limits  laid  out  in  the  charter  are  not 
extensive  enough.  The  city  must  grow  south.  It 
cannot  grow  north,  for  the  Missouri  River  is  the 
north  boundary.  It  must  grow  south  as  the  trade 
is  in  that  direction,  and  then  it  must  develop  a 
residence  district  which  will  sooner  or  later  be  on 
the  plateau  called  Westport.  Until  that  time  comes 
the  people  will  choose  the  northwest  section  for 
their  homes.  I  predict  the  ten  acres  and  immediate 
neighborhood  will  be  for  years  the  most  desirable 
residence  part  of  Kansas  City.  Where  the  city  is 
now  must  necessarily  be  the  business  district.  Be- 
sides, your  Grace,  selling  ten  acres  for  a  50-foot 
lot  near  the  levee  would  be  an  egregious  mistake. 
In  a  little  while  we  would  be  buying  another  fifty 
feet  to  enlarge  the  poorly  constructed  building  there 
now,  then  we  would  need  more  property  for  the 
priest's  house  and  school,  and  it  would  be  a  con- 
stant patching  up  and  lengthening  out,  and  after 
a  short  time  all  our  parishioners  would  have  moved 
to  newer  and  more  desirable  neighborhoods.  Ten 
acres  consecrated  by  the  memory  of  Kansas  City's 
first  resident  pastor  and  deeded  by  him  to  your 
predecessor,  Bishop  Rosatti,  has  untold  wealth  in 
its  stone  deposits  and  the  very  clay  in  it  for  many 
feet  down  means  thousands  of  dollars  when  moulded 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  53 

into  brick.  The  ten  acres  may  yet  build  a  cathedral 
and  institutions  of  charity  and  learning.  Do  not 
be  hard  on  me  if  I  have  been  a  little  foxy  in  my 
way  of  heading  off  the  well  meant  intentions  of 
my  flock." 

Father  Donnelly  completed  his  remonstrance, 
and  though  the  hour  of  midnight  had  arrived,  he 
saddled  his  horse  and  rode  rapidly  towards  Liberty 
where  he  awaited  the   first  eastbound   steamboat. 
The  postmaster  on  board  the  boat  received  his  let- 
ter and  carried   it  to   St.   Louis.     The   archbishop 
answered  the  committee,  saying  he  could  not  com- 
ply with  their  request.    Father  Donnelly  was  happy 
but  not  boastful  over  his  success  in  saving  the  ten 
acres.     His  letter  was  really  prophetic — the  most 
aristocratic  part  of   Kansas  City  for  many  years 
was  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  ten  acres. 
There  was  merit  in  at  least  two  of  the  reasons 
assigned  in  the  petition.     But  the  reasons  strong- 
est to  him  was  the  distance  for  many  of  the  people 
and  the  difficulty   of  getting  there.     The   church 
was  on  a  bluff  looking  over  the  west  bottoms  and 
the  Missouri  and  Kaw  Rivers.     There  was  a  deep 
ravine   south   of  the   church,   running   to   what   is 
Eleventh  Street,  and  growing  deeper  as  it  neared 
Broadway,  then  taking  a  course  east,  skirting  the 
north  side  of  Broadway  and  making  a  short  turn 
to   Fifth  Street.     In  the   rainy   season  the   ravine 
was    impassable    except    for    a    very    frail-looking 
bridge  near  the  entrance  to  the  church  property. 
This  bridge  led  into  the   southeast  corner   of  the 
ten  acres.     The  majority  of  the  people  had  to  face 
danger  from  bridge  and  water.     Mr.  Shannon,  as 
chairman  of  the  petitioners,  received  the  response 
from  the  archbishop.    He  showed  it  to  Father  Don- 
nelly, who  suggested  that  a  meeting  of  the  parish 
at  large  be  held  after  the  Mass  on  the  following 
Sunday.    At  the  meeting  he  told  the  people  he  had 


54  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

thought  of  a  scheme  somewhat  similar  to  their 
written  proposal  to  his  Grace.  Instead  of  exchang- 
ing properties,  why  not  rent  the  store  and  50-foot 
lot  near  Second  and  Cherry  Streets?  "You  will 
have  the  use  of  the  property  there  for  a  nominal 
sum  and  still  own  the  ten  acres.  You  will  have  all 
the  conveniences  of  the  new  church  and  none  of 
the  difficulty  of  coming  and  going."  The  sugges- 
tion took  with  the  congregation.  On  the  next  Sun- 
day, Father  said  Mass  in  the  frame  building  in  the 
city,  two  blocks  south  of  the  Missouri  and  four 
blocks  north  from  Independence  Avenue,  the  south 
line  or  limit  of  Kansas  City.  The  church  held  more 
worshippers  and  brought  out  some  non-Catholics. 
The  little  altar  from  the  old  church  was  there,  and 
the  pictures.  The  hard  oak  pews,  not  even  planed, 
were  substituted  by  shining  pine  ones  which  were 
painted  before  the  second  Sunday.  It  was  told  by 
many  people  that  Father  Donnelly  preached  much 
better  in  the  rented  church.  "We  carted  down 
everything  we  could  except  the  bell  and  the  name. 
Father  Le  Roux  never  christened  his  little  log 
church,  calling  it  simply  a  church,  in  his  transfer 
of  title  to  Bishop  Rosatti.  I  had  in  my  mind  a 
name  most  sacred  to  me  from  earliest  days,  which 
would  soon  be  the  title  of  an  article  of  Faith." 

It  was  the  sale  of  portions  of  the  ten  acres 
that  practically  built  the  present  cathedral.  It  was 
the  sale  of  the  west  half  of  the  block  on  which  the 
cathedral  stands  that  erected  the  St.  Joseph  Orphan 
Asylum.  The  stones  quarried  from  the  asylum  site 
were  formed  into  the  footing  courses  and  range 
work  as  well  as  the  window  and  door  sills  and 
steps  to  the  front  and  rear  entrances  of  the  build- 
ing. Father  Donnelly  out  of  his  own  means  paid 
the  expenses  up  to  the  brick  work.  The  second 
attempt  to  dispose  of  the  original  church  was  foiled. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  55 

A  few  years  and  the  city  limits  had  to  be  ex- 
tended. The  river  neighborhood  was  given  over  to 
business  and  the  many  residents  who  could  afford 
it  moved  to  higher  and  newer  points.  The  words 
of  Father  Donnelly  were  verified  in  his  own  day, 
the  old  church  neighborhood  was  known  as  Quality 
Hill,  where  the  wealthy  erected  homes  that  would 
do  credit  to  the  best  in  St.  Louis  and  the  eastern 
cities.  Father  Donnelly  looked  with  watchful  eyes 
upon  the  ten  acres.  They  were  to  him  like  a  sacred 
inheritance,  and  inheritances  are  sometimes  dis- 
puted. 

After  the  Civil  War  the  city  limits  kept  spread- 
ing from  the  first  charter  size.    Ten  acres  of  ground 
daily  growing  more  valuable  looked  to  the  Kansas 
City  Catholics  like  a  fortune  does  to  wishful,  waiting 
heirs  while  the  grandsire  lives  long  beyond  the  years 
allotted  man.     The  city's  growth  and  the  increased 
number  of  Catholics  justified  another  parish.     St. 
Patrick's  was  founded  in  1869.    Father  James  Hal- 
pin  and  his  congregation  held  services  in  the  base- 
ment of  a  nearby  unfinished  German  church  named 
for  Saints  Peter  and  Paul.     The  new  parish  looked 
promising.     Its  people  were  largely  new  arrivals. 
They    wanted    a    church.      The    city    had    not    yet 
moved  southward.     The  tendency  was  east.     Main 
Street  was  the  division  line,  and  from  Main  Street 
east  and  west  there  was  an  elevation  of  many  feet, 
beginning  south  of  Eighth  Street.    The  new  pastor, 
Father  Halpin,  had  just  left  the  Society  of  Jesus 
where  he  had  been   a  professor   for   many   years. 
At  the  very  first  business  meeting  in  the  new  par- 
ish the  question  raised  was  not  how  much  will  each 
one  give  to  the  new  parish,  but  how  much  of  the 
ten  acres   are  we  entitled  to?     A   committee   was 
appointed  to  wait  on   Father  Donnelly  and  make 
a  claim  on  what  they  maintained  was  theirs.     The 
ten  acres  were  again  a  bone  of  contention.    Father 


56  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

Donnelly's  response  was  a  letter  from  Archbishop 
Kenrick,  which  he  read  them.  He  introduced  the 
letter  by  saying:  "I  knew  you  were  coming."  This 
letter,  like  all  Archbishop  Kenrick's  letters,  was 
very  short  and  to  the  point. 

"Rev.  B.  Donnelly, 
Rev.  Dr.  Sir: 

"In  answer  to  yours  of  Nov.  20,  I  wish  to 
say,  the  10  acres  belong  to  Immaculate  Conception 
parish.  The  coming  new  parish,  as  well  as  all  com- 
ing parishes,  shall  have  no  claim  on  the  site  pur- 
chased by  my  predecessor,  Bishop  Rosatti,  from 
Fr.  Le  Roux.    Yours  in  Christ. 

fP.  R.  Kenrick." 

This  letter  headed  off  all  further  demands  on 
the  ten  acres.  A  storm  of  indignation  came  from 
the  disappointed  claimants  which  finally  subsided 
and  was  followed  by  a  wholesome  spirit  of  rivalry. 
Father  Donnelly  treasured  the  letters  he  received 
in  the  instance  of  the  early  committee,  and  this 
blank  refusal  to  Father  Halpin.  He  would  read 
these  letters  to  coming  new  pastors  to  warn  them 
against  any  aggressions,  and  would  say,  "You  see 
what  you  may  expect." 

The  new  parish  witnessed  the  German  con- 
gregation insisting  on  a  parish  graveyard.  This 
was  a  tolerated  privilege  demanded  and  enjoyed 
everywhere  the  German  Catholics  started  a  parish. 
St.  Patrick's  parish  persisted  in  its  clamor  for  a 
cemetery  of  its  own.  Father  Halpin  was  succeeded 
by  Father  Archer,  who,  after  a  short  while,  was 
appointed  to  St.  Patrick's  Church,  St.  Louis.  Father 
Dunn  was  the  third  pastor.  He  agreed  with  his 
people  that  a  parish  graveyard  was  right  and 
proper.  Father  Donnelly's  letter  of  protest 
brought  a  response  from  the  archbishop  forbidding 
any    other    graveyard    for    the    English-speaking 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  57 

parishes  than  the  one  in  the  original  ten  acres.  He 
also  stated  that  the  control  of  that  cemetery  would 
remain  in  the  hands  of  Father  Donnelly.  Before 
this  letter  from  the  archbishop  arrived  Father 
Dunn  had  been  deeded  several  acres  for  his  parish 
cemetery.  The  present  came  from  a  prominent 
member  of  Father  Donnelly's  parish.  Of  course,  the 
new  site  was  never  used  for  the  purpose  of  the 
transfer. 

The  2nd  and  Cherry  Street  Church  served  its 
purpose  well — there  was  quiet  in  the  parish  except 
for  the  usual  grumblers  who  refused  to  contribute 
their  share  in  paying  the  rent  of  the  50-foot  lot 
and  the  church.  Father  Donnelly  observed  that 
some  of  his  people  who  had  homes  near  the  rented 
property  were  disposing  of  them  and  purchasing 
near  Broadway  and  not  far  from  the  old  original 
property.  Business  was  encroaching.  He  satisfied 
himself  that  the  ten  acres  near  12th  Street  had 
ideal  soil  for  brickmaking.  He  made  test  after 
test  and  then  with  the  help  of  two  brickmakers 
from  St.  Louis  he  began  the  manufacture  of  brick. 
He  claimed  his  was  the  first  large  brickyard  ever 
opened  in  Kansas  City.  Several  business  houses 
and  many  residences  were  constructed  of  his  prod- 
uct. Bricks  of  course  commanded  a  good  price, 
but  lumber  cost  more  because  it  had  to  be  shipped 
a  great  distance  from  the  East.  Kansas  was  a 
vast  prairie.  The  industries  in  St.  Joseph,  Liberty, 
Weston  and  Lexington,  all  neighboring  and  larger 
towns  than  Kansas  City,  were  tobacco  and  hemp 
factories.  Negro  slaves  were  the  workmen.  Form- 
ing materials  for  buildings  must  have  been  ex- 
clusively in  the  hands  of  white  men,  and  the  native 
white  man  that  was  forced  to  work  in  the  slave 
states  selected  an  occupation  that  afforded  him 
plenty  of  time  to  lounge. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  59 

When   his  brickyard   was   under   way,   Father 
Donnelly  worked  for  hours  daily  side  by  side  with 
his  help.    The  venture  was  a  paying  one  and  he  soon 
had  money  enough  in  the  local  banks  to  justify  him 
in  proclaiming  in  newspaper  and  church  and  to  the 
citizens  as  he  met  them  that  he  would  soon  start  on 
a  new  brick  church.    The  bricks  were  on  hand,  the 
stone  for  the  foundation  and  trimmings  were  near 
the  site  of  the  coming  structure  and  the  location 
would  face  Broadway  on  the  ten  acres.    The  glitter 
from  the  new  city  had  dimmed  and  people  were  look- 
ing for  building  places  that  would  give  ample  room 
and  the  comforts  of  air  and  sunshine,  just  a  little 
outside  corporation  lines.     A  city  narrowed  down 
like   Kansas   City   was   certain   to   be    dusty   and 
smoky.     Grass  and  trees  fade  and  die  from  smoke 
and  dust  off  streets.     The  ten  acres,  free  from  the 
trampling  of  people  for  a  few  years,  were  carpeted 
with  a  verdure  of  blue  grass  planted  with  the  best 
Kentucky  seed.     The  trees  were  well  kept.     Out- 
side of  the  four  acre  portion  alloted  to  the  cemetery 
the  grounds  were  converted  into  a  shaded  park 
with  seats  and  walks.     The  old  church  property 
became  a  popular  visiting  place  on  Sundays  and 
holidays.     What  a  delightful  site  for  a  church ! 
How  pleased  the  people  were  at  the  prospect  of 
soon  coming  back  to  the  first  location!     Father 
Donnelly  had  won  again,  and  this  was  a  victory 
— he  was  leading  his  flock  home  again! 

Father  Donnelly  resumed  his  letters  to  the 
Boston  Pilot  and  the  New  York  Freeman's  Jour- 
nal after  the  arrival  of  the  300  laborers  to  tear 
down  the  bluffs  and  small  mountains  and  fill  up 
the  valleys  and  hollows  made  by  the  rains  and 
springs  on  their  way  to  the  Missouri  and  Kaw 
Rivers.  Many  desirable  families  heeded  his  ad- 
vice and  came  west,  some  of  them  to  make  their 
homes  in  Kansas  City  and  others  to  farm  in  Jack- 


60  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

son  County  and  in  Kansas.  The  growth  of  Catho- 
lics in  and  close  to  Kansas  City  demanded  a  new 
church.  He  had  money  on  hand  from  collections 
and  from  the  sale  of  bricks  made  on  the  ten  acres 
and  of  stone  taken  out  of  the  property,  and  of 
lime  from  the  two  lime  kilns  he  had  in  operation 
for  months.  With  the  archbishop's  permission  he 
started  on  the  excavations.  The  footing  courses 
were  soon  in  place  and  the  stone  ranges  went  up 
quickly.  The  date  of  the  cornerstone  laying  was 
the  second  Sunday  after  Pentecost,  1856.  The 
ceremony  attracted  a  very  large  attendance.  Boat 
excursions  brought  people  from  Liberty  and  Wes- 
ton, from  St.  Joseph,  and  a  company  of  soldiers 
from  Fort  Leavenworth.  It  would  seem  that  every- 
body in  Independence  and  Kansas  City  turned  out. 
Father  Hammil  came  all  the  way  from  Lexington 
and  brought  many  people  with  him.  From  St. 
Louis  came  Fathers  William  Wheeler,  Patrick 
O'Brien,  and  the  venerable  Father  Saulnier,  the 
priest  whom  Father  Donnelly  visited  on  his  way 
to  Old  Mines  the  day  of  his  ordination.  Two 
Jesuit  Fathers  from  St.  Mary's,  Kansas,  kindly 
gave  their  presence.  Father  O'Brien  preached 
the  sermon  and  Father  Donnelly  laid  the  corner- 
stone. The  size  of  the  edifice  was  30  by  60  feet. 
The  walls  were  of  brick,  made  and  carefully  se- 
lected by  the  pastor  and  his  helpers  in  his  parish 
brickyard. 

Father  Donnelly  was  ready  to  entertain  his 
reverend  guests.  East  of  the  new  cornerstone 
he  had  just  completed  a  two-story  house  for  a 
residence.  In  his  reveries — and  he  was  forever 
planning  and  looking  ahead — he  could  see  himself 
comfortably  ensconced  in  the  largest  brick  pas- 
toral residence  west  of  St.  Louis,  a  few  feet  from 
the  largest  and  the  best  put-together  church  be- 
tween the  Kaw  and  Mississippi  Rivers.     But  how 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         61 

men's  dreams  "gang  aft  agley!"  Father  Don- 
nelly pushed  on  the  church  structure  without  any 
unnecessary  delay.  In  early  summer  he  dedicated 
the  church.  The  dedication  sermon  was  delivered 
by  Bishop  Miege,  Vicar-Apostolic  of  Kansas,  who 
also  performed  the  dedication  ceremonies.  Dur- 
ing all  this  labor  Father  Donnelly  would  steal  away 
to  Independence  perhaps  three  times  a  week.  He 
was  resident  pastor  of  Independence  and  simply 
missionary  priest  at  Kansas  City.  It  would  sound 
better  and  be  in  keeping  with  Canon  titles  to  call 
his  Kansas  City  church  a  "chapel  of  ease,"  a  suc- 
cursal  church.  He  did  not  give  the  name  of  a 
saint  to  the  chapel  on  5th  Street,  and  he  tells  in  a 
letter  to  the  Catholic  Banner  that  it  was  Father 
De  Smet  who  christened  the  unnamed  log  church  St. 
Francis  Regis.  On  the  day  of  dedication,  before 
Bishop  Miege  began  the  ceremonies,  Father  Don- 
nelly, standing  on  the  altar,  announced:  "This 
church  will  be  dedicated  to  the  Virgin  Mother 
under  the  title  of  Immaculate  Conception."  By 
that  title  the  bishop  dedicated  it,  by  that  title  it 
was  known  and  called  by  bishops,  priests  and  peo- 
ple, and  when  the  first  bishop  of  Kansas  City 
dedicated  his  cathedral  he  announced  to  the  vast 
congregation,  "I  now  take  the  name  Mary  Immacu- 
late from  the  little  church  near  by  and  hand  it 
over  to  our  new  cathedral.  Let  it  be  called  Im- 
maculate Conception  Cathedral."  The  writer  was 
present  in  the  sanctuary  the  day  of  the  dedica- 
tion of  the  cathedral  and  heard  these  words  of  the 
bishop,  and  preached  the  dedication  sermon. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MRS.  DILLON'S  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  EARLY 

DAYS. 

At  the  suggestion  of  the  writer,  in  1878,  Mrs. 
Dillon,  Kansas  City's  oldest  native  resident,  wrote 
her  recollections  of  the  early  days  for  publication 
in  the  Catholic  Banner.     Her  account  follows: 
Editor  of  Catholic  Banner: 

X  cheerfully  comply  with  your  request  to 
write  about  myself  and  early  Kansas  City 
for  your  newspaper.  I  have  the  proud 
distinction  of  being  the  first  white  child 
born  on  the  site  of  Westport.  I  never  heard  of  any 
Indian  child  born  before  me  here  and  so  I  presume 
I  am  the  very  first  child  of  any  kind  or  race  born 
here.  Indians  may  have  and  no  doubt  did  pass 
back  and  forth  but  never  pitched  their  tents  in 
these  parts.  The  Indians,  like  the  first  white  men, 
lived  close  to  streams  for  the  same  reason  the 
whites  did — because  it  was  easier  of  ingress  and 
egress,  and  because  they  found  food  in  the  fishes 
that  were  in  the  Kansas  and  Missouri  Rivers.  They 
hunted  on  the  plains  where  the  buffaloes  and  other 
wild  animals  were  in  abundance.  The  soil  was 
productive,  so  they  had  plenty  to  eat. 

My  parents  came  from  Kentucky.  They  lived 
for  a  little  while  after  their  arrival  on  the  bottom 
land  near  the  Kaw  known  as  the  West  bottoms,  to 
distinguish  it  from  the  bottoms  east,  or  East  bot- 
toms. The  West  bottoms  were  held  in  preference 
by  newcomers,  because  they  faced  on  two  rivers. 
One  day  my  father  strayed  over  the  big  bluffs  and 
after  a  few  miles'  walk  southward  came  to  the 
high  level  known  now  as  Westport.     On  his  return 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  63 

he  told  Mother  that  the  place  he  had  visited  was 
more  desirable  for  a  home  as  it  was  much  cooler 
and  was  away  from  the  damp  fogs  of  the  streams, 
and  the  soil  reminded  him  of  Kentucky.  The  low 
lands  were  sandy.  Besides  in  his  native  state  he 
had  lived  near  the  Ohio  River  and  on  two  different 
occasions  was  driven  out  of  his  home  by  high 
water  floods.  On  his  walk  south  he  found  two 
Kentucky  families  who  advised  him  strongly  to 
come  out  near  them  and  they  would  help  him  cut 
down  trees  and  build  a  log  cabin.  Mother  assented 
and  next  day  they  put  their  few  belongings  in  their 
wagon  and  drove  south.  They  were  kindly  re- 
ceived, and  the  very  next  day  set  to  work  cutting 
the  timber.  Within  a  week,  with  the  help  of  their 
neighbors,  they  had  their  small  log  house  ready 
for  occupation.  It  was  one-story  and  8x12  feet 
in  size.  It  was  in  this  log  cabin  I  was  born  on 
March  25th,  1820.  The  ground  was  no  man's 
land,  my  parents  were  told ;  it  was  in  territory 
ceded  some  little  time  before  to  the  United  States 
by  the  Osage  Tribe  of  Indians.  Father  never  gave 
a  thought  to  ownership  nor  preemption  nor  squat- 
ter's right — just  took  possession.  Our  two  neighbors 
were  equally  careless  about  title.  Another  way  to 
acquire  property  at  that  time  was  by  government 
patent,  but  they  knew  nothing  about  patents  from 
Uncle  Sam. 

It  was  easy  to  keep  the  home  warm,  for  wood 
was  plentiful.  But  the  larder  had  to  be  provided 
for.  In  the  West  bottoms  the  Astor  Fur  Com- 
pany needed  food  and  lodging  for  their  employees 
and  the  Canadian-French  were  making  more  than 
a  living  feeding  and  rooming  the  hunters  and 
trappers  and  selling  garden  products  to  the  fur 
boats  and  to  men  passing  in  skiffs  north  and 
south.  Nature  had  made  a  good  landing  place 
or  levee  between  the  West  and  East  bottoms.    And 


64         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

soldiers  on  their  way  to  the  Fort  Leavenworth 
would  go  to  the  Canadian  squatters  for  potatoes, 
chickens  and  prairie  birds,  and  sometimes  make 
contracts  for  a  regular  supply  for  the  army.  Money 
was  passing  hands  and  a  few  stores  were  doing 
good  business.  There  was  some  stir  in  the  bot- 
toms and  my  parents  were  soon  forced  by  a  con- 
stantly thinning  out  of  their  purse  to  leave  their 
new  home  and  go  back  to  the  sandy  soil  they  had 
recently  left.  Our  Canadian  friends  welcomed  us 
back.  They  told  my  parents  that  a  Catholic  priest 
from  Florissant  had  promised  to  visit  them  and  ad- 
minister the  consolations  of  religion.  "Oh,"  said 
they  to  Mother,  "there  are  many  little  children 
who  will  be  baptized  when  he  comes."  It  was  in 
1821,  early  in  spring,  he  arrived.  His  name  was 
Father  La  Croix. 

During  my  parents'  stay  here  before  going  to 
what  is  now  Westport,  a  goodly  number  of  our 
neighbors  would  go  to  the  home  of  Peter  Clement 
Lessert  every  Sunday  to  recite  Catholic  prayers,  in 
lieu  of  Mass,  for  up  to  the  coming  of  Father  La 
Croix  no  priest  had  ever  visited  here.  My  parents 
were  very  friendly  with  their  Canadian  neighbors 
and  went  every  Sunday  to  the  prayer  meeting. 
Father  and  Mother  at  that  time  were  not  affiliated 
to  any  church.  Their  neighbors  were  good,  simple 
people  and  their  church  had  made  them  such.  It 
did  not  require  much  persuasion  to  induce  my  par- 
ents to  consent  to  have  my  brother,  three  years 
of  age,  and  me,  their  baby,  baptized  by  Father 
La  Croix.  He  remained  here  about  a  month.  Mass 
and  other  services  were  held  in  the  home  of  Clem- 
ent Lessert.  Before  Father  left  here  for  St.  Joseph 
my  parents  were  baptized  by  him.  My  Godparents 
were  Callis  Montardeau  and  his  wife  Helois.  The 
date  of  my  baptism  was  May  14th,  1821.  Father 
La    Croix    spent    some    weeks  in    and    around    St. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         65 

Joseph  and  then  went  north  to  the  Sioux  country — 
it  was  called  by  that  name  and  is  now  Sioux  City. 
He  returned  to  west  bottoms  in  the  fall  and  said 
Mass  two  Sundays.  This  time  the  Mass  was  said 
the  first  Sunday  in  the  home  of  Peter  La  Liberte 
and  the  second  Sunday  in  Francois  Trumley's  resi- 
dence in  tne  west  bottoms.  The  Chouteau  family 
had  not  yet  arrived  and  all  the  Catholics  were  in 
the  west  bottoms. 

The  historical  data  I  am  now  giving  you  is  not 
reminiscent,  as  I  was  not  at  a  mentally  receptive 
condition  at  the  time  I  am  mentioning.  I  have 
before  me  a  diary  given  me  in  my  tenth  year  by 
my  Godmother,  Mrs.  Montardeau.  She  was  an  edu- 
cated woman,  who  before  the  days  of  the  French 
Revolution  was  a  student  in  one  of  the  best  convent 
academies  in  her  native  France.  Her  parents  were 
killed  by  the  madmen  of  those  days  and  her  prop- 
erty confiscated.  She  came  out  West  from  Canada. 
You  asked  me  for  church  history.  I  find  in  this 
diary  or  memorandum  book  that  the  next  priest 
who  visited  this  site  was  Father  Joseph  Lutz  from 
the  Cathedral  at  St.  Louis.  He  made  his  home 
with  the  Montardeau  family.  He  was  of  German 
birth  but  spoke  French  and  English  well.  From 
the  West  Kansas  bottoms  he  visited  the  Kaw  and 
Kickapoo  Tribes.  It  was  from  the  Kaw  Tribes 
Kansas  and  Kansas  City  got  their  names.  They 
were  nearly  all  Catholics  and  were  the  Indians  that 
called  on  Bishop  Rosatti  for  a  priest.  Father  Lutz 
was  secretary  to  Bishop  Rosatti  and  in  1845  built 
St.  Patrick's  Church  in  St.  Louis.  He  left  St.  Louis 
and  became  pastor  of  a  church  in  New  York  City, 
where  he  died.  He  returned  his  calls  to  this  place 
at  intervals  as  late  as  the  spring  of  1844.  I  find 
in  the  Montardeau  diary  that  his  last  appearance 
here  was  in  the  early  spring  of  1844.  He  left  in 
time  to  escape  the  great  flood  of  1844. 


66         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

I  often  thought  over  what  I  heard  many  a 
Catholic  mother  say  when  I  was  a  child:  "What 
a  terrible  affliction  families  bring  on  themselves 
by  moving  into  new  and  distant  countries  and  thus 
cutting  themselves  away  from  all  the  benefits  and 
consolations  of  religion.  The  struggle  for  exist- 
ence in  new  parts  is  nothing  nearly  so  hard  as  the 
feeling,  we  are  bereft  of  God's  best  ministrations  in 
life  and  death.  What  a  happy  news  when  the  word 
went  around  that  a  priest  is  coming  to  us!" 

Father  Roux  came  here  in  1833.  I  can  recall 
his  arrival.  While  here  he  lived  with  the  Chouteau 
family,  whose  residence  then  and  for  many  years 
was  where  Cherry  and  Second  Streets  meet.  He 
said  Mass  in  the  Chouteau  residence  every  Sunday. 
Close  to  the  Chouteaus  was  a  small  frame  build- 
ing used  by  Father  Donnelly  for  church  purposes, 
when  the  Catholics  tired  of  climbing  up-  the  hills 
to  the  log  church. 

Father  Roux  visited  here  from  Kaskaskia  on 
at  least  two  occasions  after  leaving  this  part  of 
the  world.  It  was  Father  Roux  who  purchased  the 
ten  acres  and  gave  them  to  Bishop  Rosatti  for  a 
consideration  of  two  dollars.  Father  Donnelly  held 
on  to  the  ten  acres  with  the  log  church  and  office 
or  rest  structure  nearby.  Neither  Father  Roux 
nor  any  of  the  succeeding  priests  ever  lived  in  this 
little  log  affair.  It  is  still  standing  and  is  always 
called  Kansas  City's  first  parsonage,  but  in  fact 
never  was  fitted  or  occupied  by  any  priest  coming, 
going,  or  staying  here. 

Fathers  Van  Quickenborne  and  P.  Van  Hoecken 
passed  here  on  their  first  visit  to  the  Kickapoo 
village  in  1836.  The  memory  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers 
is  as  clear  to  me  as  events  of  yesterday.  They 
lived  with  the  Pottawatomie  Indians  and  attended 
here  at  intervals  until  the  coming  of  Father  Don- 
nelly in  1845.    I  often  heard  from  Father  Donnelly 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  67 

that  it  was  Father  De  Smet  who  gave  the  name 
St.  Francis  Regis  to  the  little  log  church.  You  ask 
me  about  St.  Xavier's  Church.  There  never  was 
any  such  church  here.  The  one  church  structure 
was  all  required.  A  church  at  Westport — let  me 
tell  vou  I  was  at  Mass  the  Sunday  Bishop  Kenrick 
appeared  here.  I  recall  he  baptized  and  confirmed 
before  beginning  Mass.  He  put  down  the  names 
of  the  baptized  and  confirmed  and  requested  that 
the  entries  be  made  at  the  church  at  Westport. 
Before  taking  a  boat  for  St.  Louis  he  was  waited 
on  by  nearly  all  the  Catholics.  Among  other  things 
he  told  us  that  he  wished  the  baptisms  and  con- 
firmations done  by  him  the  last  Sunday  be  for- 
warded to  the  Westport  Church.  "Westport 
Church?"  said  Mr.  Chouteau,  "There  is  no  such 
church.  Ours  is  the  only  church  in  these  parts." 
"Whv,"  said  the  Bishop,  "I  was  informed  there 
was  ^a  church  at  Westport,  and  as  there  was  no 
priest  to  receive  me  here  I  made  the  request  after 
writing  the  names.  Where  do  the  Fathers  live 
who  attend  here?"  "Over  the  line  some  miles  in 
the  Territory,"  replied  Mr.  Chouteau.  "I  am  ex- 
pecting a  long  visit  from  a  Bishop  friend,  and  shall 
request  him  to  visit  here  all  through  these  parts 
to  give  me  a  correct  report  of  churches  and  mis- 
sions." A  bishop  named  Barron  soon  arrived  and 
went  west  to  the  Jesuits  for  some  days.  Our  own 
bishop  seemed  displeased  to  have  no  priest  when 
he  reached  here,  and  said  something  about  "vision 
churches." 

The  coming  of  Father  De  Smet  was  always 
a  gala  day.  Everyone  knew  and  loved  him  and 
everybody  has  heard  and  read  of  his  many  con- 
versions in  the  Indian  tribes.  Father  Donnelly  is 
a  combination  of  the  missionary  and  the  resident 
priest.  He  is  a  man  of  great  versatility  and  earnest- 
ness.   He  is  tanned  by  the  sun,  and  hardened  by  the 


68         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

chill  of  the  winter.  He  and  his  Indian  pony  are 
known  from  Kansas  all  through  southeast  Missouri. 

Father  Roux  was  a  son  of  a  family  of  means 
abroad.  He  was  not  a  forceful  character,  but  rather 
inclined  to  be  just  going  to  do  something.  He 
surely  did  a  wise  thing  when  he  purchased  the  ten 
acres  for  the  coming  church.  Father  Roux  was 
of  commanding  appearance,  with  light  hair  and 
refined  taste. 

Father  Saulnier,  who  was  here  for  a  little  over 
one  year,  has  the  credit  of  starting  and  teaching 
the  first  school  ever  in  Kansas  City.  His  stay  was 
entirely  too  short.  From  Father  La  Croix,  the 
first  priest,  to  Father  Dalton,  the  latest  arrival,  I 
have  had  some  acquaintance  with  everyone. 

When  1  married  Mr.  Dillon  I  soon  found  my- 
self on  my  native  heath,  where  I  was  born.  All 
during  the  days  of  the  Santa  Fe  trail  and  when 
hundreds  were  traveling  to  the  California  and 
Pike's  Peak  gold  regions,  Westport  was  a  lively 
village.  It  was  all  tents  and  looked  like  the  resting 
place  of  an  army.  Few  buildings  went  up.  Nearly 
all  the  arrivals  came  with  tents  and  lived  in  them 
while  waiting  for  a  cavalcade  of  soldiers  for  safety 
going  through  the  plains  and  over  the  mountains. 
It  seems  like  yesterday  since  newly  appointed 
bishops  and  their  priests  would  pitch  their  tents 
in  and  around  our  town.  They  said  Mass  in  the 
tents  every  morning.  Occasionally  on  a  Sunday  I 
would  request  a  bishop  or  priest  to  sav  his  Mass 
in  my  parlor.  At  least  three  times  Father  Don- 
nelly favored  us  with  Divine  Services.  I  recall  he 
always  brought  one  of  his  nephews  to  serve  his 
Mass. 

From  his  arrival,  Father  Donnelly  accommo- 
dated himself  in  many  ways  to  the  needs  of  his 
congregation.  He  preached  a  sermon  in  English. 
He  was  quick  in  picking  up  a  language,  and  was 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         69 

here  only  a  few  Sundays  when  his  knowledge  of 
French  justified  him  in  delivering  a  short  sermon 
in  French.  I  know  that  when  he  came  here  he 
could  not  converse  in  French.  But  he  gave  us  all 
a  surprise  one  Sunday  by  saluting  a  number  of 
Osage  Indians  who  stopped  over  on  their  way  to 
Washington.  Several  weeks  before  their  arrival 
Father  Donnelly  learned  from  his  friends,  the  Jes- 
uit Fathers  at  Osage,  that  they  were  coming.  He 
promptly  called  on  the  Professor  of  Indian  Lan- 
guage at  Shawnee  Mission  to  teach  him  the  Osage 
dialect.  He  repeated  his  visits  and  remained  for 
hours  every  day  acquiring  enough  of  the  tongue  to 
make  a  talk  to  the  coming  Indians.  After  a  ser- 
mon in  English  he  addressed  the  Indians  for  fully 
fifteen  minutes  in  the  Osage.  They  were  all  atten- 
tion while  he  spoke.  They  did  not  seem  surprised, 
for  Indians  never  look  surprised.  After  Mass  we 
gathered  around  the  twenty  or  thirty  natives  and 
asked  if  they  understood  Father  Donnelly.  They 
said,  "Yes,  he  speak  Indian."  The  white  man,  the 
government  agent,  told  us  that  Father  Donnelly 
made  himself  thoroughly  understood.  He  continued 
his  lessons  in  Indian  for  a  long  while  afterwards. 
The  same  Indians,  on  their  way  home,  were  here 
for  Sunday  and  Father  Donnelly  again  addressed 
them  in  the  Osage  tongue. 

This  is  my  second  venture  in  newspaper  lines. 
I  pray  kind  indulgence. 

MRS.  DILLON. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FATHER   DONNELLY   GIVES   UP   THE   INDE- 
PENDENCE PARISH,  1857. 

^^^>HE  dedication  of  the  Kansas  City  brick 
§C\  church  was  still  fresh  in  Father  Donnelly's 
^^  J  recollection  and  he  was  in  his  home  at 
^^^  Independence  when  a  priest  named  Father 
Denis  Kennedy  made  his  appearance  and  announced 
himself  pastor  of  Kansas  City.  If  Father  Donnelly 
ever  had  a  nerve  he  must  have  turned  it  off  as  one 
turns  off  an  electric  light.  With  extended  hand 
and  a  friendly  smile  playing  on  his  face,  he  con- 
gratulated and  welcomed  the  brother  priest,  and 
to  continue  what  he  considered  the  pleasantry,  he 
complimented  him  and  said,  "By  the  way,  there's 
not  a  priest  in  the  diocese  that  would  not  be  hon- 
ored by  such  a  promotion."  When  the  visitor  was 
seated  Father  Donnelly  asked  him  when  he  had 
arrived,  and  had  he  come  by  way  of  Kansas  City. 
"Well,  Father  Donnelly,"  he  replied,  "I  came  by 
boat  to  Kansas  City  yesterday,  and  I  propose  to 
return  on  the  first  eastbound  packet.  Here  is  my 
letter  of  appointment."  Father  Donnelly  read  the 
letter,  witn  the  ease  and  self-control  of  a  man  who 
was  receiving  commonplace  news.  He  said:  "Father 
Kennedy,  do  not  go  away.  You  surely  have  been 
promoted.  Where  you  have  come  has  a  great  fu- 
ture and  a  good-sized  congregation.  Central  Town- 
ship, where  you  were,  will  never  be  big  enough 
to  act  as  tail  to  the  kite  of  St.  Louis.  Besides,  it 
will  not  advance  your  standing  with  your  arch- 
bishop to  show  the  white  feather  now.  What  is 
the  matter?  Why  do  you  refuse  Kansas  City?" 
"I  learn,"  said  the  priest,  "there  is  a  debt  on  the 
parish  and  I  will  never  undertake  to  pay  a  debt 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  71 

made  by  another."  "Well,"  said  Father  Donnelly, 
"I  do  not  want  you  to  go  away.  Would  you  take 
a  parish  out  here,  without  a  cent  of  debt,  and  with 
church,  school,  and  property  of  several  acres,  and 
a  cemetery?  If  you  say  yes,  I'll  give  you  Inde- 
pendence and  go  myself  to  Kansas  City  and  pay 
off  that  small  debt."  Father  Kennedy  assented 
and  remained  as  guest  with  Father  Donnelly  until 
a  response  from  a  letter  to  Archbishop  Kenrick 
arrived.  The  archbishop  replied,  "I  am  satisfied 
with  the  arrangement  between  Fathers  Donnelly 
and  Kennedy,  and  hereby  make  the  appointments 
of  Father  Donnelly  to  be  resident  pastor  of  Kan- 
sas City  and  Father  Kennedy  resident  pastor  of 
Independence."  Father  Donnelly  left  within  a  few 
hours  for  his  home  in  Kansas  City.  He  carried 
with  him  a  satchel  containing  absolute  necessities, 
and  a  few  days  afterwards  removed  his  library 
and  wearing  apparel.  Father  Donnelly,  having  a 
keen  business  sense,  realized  he  got  the  better  in 
the  transaction  and  for  that  he  thanked  God  and 
his  own  shrewdness. 

Father  Denis  Kennedy  was  a  worthy  successor 
at  Independence.  He  was  gifted  with  the  true 
missionary  spirit  of  Father  Donnelly.  His  health 
was  rugged  and  he  never  tired,  following  Father 
Donnelly's  long  journeys  on  horseback  in  search 
of  the  scattered  members  of  the  fold  of  Christ. 
During  the  bushwhacking  and  guerilla  raids  by 
independent  bands  of  southern  cavalry,  and  the 
counterraids  of  what  was  called  the  Jennison  Jay- 
hawkers  from  Kansas  into  Jackson  County,  Father 
Kennedy's  services  were  kindly  recognized  by  the 
contending  forces.  He  was  frequently  sent  for  by 
both  sides  to  administer  to  the  wounded  and  the 
dying.  One  night  on  his  way  to  one  of  these  calls 
he  was  suddenly  halted  and  commanded  to  iden- 
tify himself.    He  gave  his  name  and  place  of  resi- 


72         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

dence.    The  outlaw  troop  had  never  heard  of  him. 
When  he  said  he  was  a  priest  they  immediately 
connected  him  with  some  spies  and  detectives  who 
in  the  garb  of  ministers  of  the  Gospel  were  sent  to 
ferret  out  the  hiding  places  of  Quantrill  and  his 
daring  aide-de-camp,  Jesse  James.     They  refused 
to  heed  his  pleas  and  ordered  him  to  dismount. 
He  was  led  to  a  convenient  tree  to  be  shot.   Western 
outlaws  always  prefer  to  kill  a  victim  when  he  has 
the  support  of  a  tree.    When  the  three  sharpshoot- 
ers who  did  the  executions  were  moving  to  the 
usual  thirty  paces  in  front,  a  soldier  sleeping  near- 
by on  the  ground  suddenly  awoke.     As  he  sat  up 
his  eyes  fell  on  the  condemned  man.     The  first 
glance  convinced  him  he  knew  the  prisoner,  and 
the  second  look  made  him  shout:     "Boys,  don't 
shoot.      That's    a    man    who    harbored    me    and 
Brother  Frank  in  his  house  in  Independence  when 
we  were  wounded  by  the  Jennison  fiends.     That's 
Father  Kennedy,  a  Catholic  priest."     The  execu- 
tioners lowered  their  guns.     It  was  Jesse  James 
who  had  spoken.     He  rushed  to  Father  Kennedy 
and  asked  where  he  was  going.     "To  visit  a  dying 
man,"  replied  the  priest.   "I  thought  so,"  said  Jesse, 
"you're  always  good  to  the  sick  and  wounded  and 
the  dying.    I'll  escort  you,  Father,  and  that  fellow 
that  ordered  you  shot  will  go  along,  too.     That's 
Bill  Sheppard,  a  pretty  bad  fellow,  but  he  isn't 
afraid  of  anything  or  anybody.     Come  on,  Bill!" 
ordered  the  superior  officer,  Jesse  James.     They 
rode  side  by  side  of  the  priest  to  the  home  of  the 
dying  Catholic.    They  then  saw  Father  Kennedy  to 
his    door   in    Independence.      This    story   was   fre- 
quently told  by  Father  Kennedy  after  the  war. 
Two  of  Father  Kennedy's  parishioners  became  as- 
sociated with  the  Quantrill  guerilla  band,  as  they 
were  called,  and  in  an  interview  with  the  reporter 
of  a  Kansas  City  evening  paper,  said  they  heard 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  73 

the  occurrence  related  by  those  who  were  with 
Jesse  on  the  night  that  Father  Kennedy  had  the 
close  call.  Father  Kennedy  was  transferred  to 
Hannibal,  Missouri,  in  1871,  and  before  he  died 
purchased  the  church  erected  by  the  Congre- 
gationalists  at  Hannibal  immediately  before  the 
Civil  War.  It  is  one  of  the  largest  and  finest 
church  edifices  in  Missouri.  Its  cost  price  when 
labor  and  material  were  low  was  $70,000.00. 

Father  Kennedy's  successors  at  Independence 
were  Father  O'Neill,  Father  Kennedy's  predeces- 
sor at  Hannibal,  Father  E.  J.  Shea,  a  brilliant  and 
hard  working  priest,  then  first  assistant  to  Bishop 
Ryan  at  St.  John's  Church,  St.  Louis,  who  was 
appointed  pastor  when  Father  O'Neill  resigned  to 
join  the  diocese  of  Chicago.  But  Father  Shea  de- 
clined the  proffer.  Father  T.  Fitzgerald  then  be- 
came pastor  of  Independence  where  he  continued 
until  his  death  in  1910. 


fi 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
COLONIZER  AND  ENTHUSIAST. 

'ATHER  DONNELLY  quickly  cleared  off 
the  few  thousand  dollars'  indebtedness  on 
the  new  Immaculate  Conception  Church. 
The  Kansas  City  parish  did  not  long 
confine  the  labors  of  Father  Donnelly.  Shortly 
after  leaving  Independence  he  received  orders  to 
attend  as  outmission  the  city  of  Liberty,  which 
meant  all  Clay  County.  This  new  charge,  after 
two  years,  was  transferred  to  the  pastor  of  Inde- 
pendence. Bishop  Miege  in  1857  requested  Father 
Donnelly  to  take  care  of  the  handful  of  Catholics 
a  few  miles  across  the  Kaw  in  the  Kanzas  Terri- 
tory. While  doing  this  service  for  his  friend  he 
induced  some  very  desirable  Irish  families  recently 
from  his  own  county  in  Ireland  to  buy  farms  in 
Kansas  on  the  road  leading  to  Leavenworth.  This 
settlement  was  fortunate  in  following  his  advice. 
Their  farms  were  very  productive  and  the  pur- 
chasers were  practical,  industrious  farmers.  Some 
few,  however,  never  got  over  their  lonesomeness 
for  their  old  country  and  were  constantly  finding 
fault  and  regretting  their  investment.  Father 
Donnelly  was  always  solicitous  for  his  countrymen 
and  aided  them  in  selecting  good  locations.  His 
choice  was  the  farming  lands.  "The  only  trade 
you  ever  followed  at  home  was  farming.  Go  to  the 
farms,"  he  would  say.  "The  temptations  of  the 
cities  are  great,  and  too  many  of  you  are  yielding 
to  them."  After  his  experience  with  the  few  dis- 
contented ones  in  Kansas  he  ever  afterwards  was 
slow  to  point  out  any  particular  place  for  future 
homes  except  within  his  own  parish  lines. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  75 

Father  Donnelly's  many  letters  to  eastern 
newspapers  made  his  name  well  known  in  New 
York  and  Boston.  The  name  of  the  Kansas  settle- 
ment was  the  one  usually  given  every  locality  en- 
tered by  Irishmen.  It  was  called  "Irish  Settle- 
ment." That  name  may  be  frequently  found  in  the 
church  directories  of  the  '40s  and  '50s.  For  in- 
stance, in  the  Directory  of  1849  the  Jesuit  mission- 
aries from  St.  Mary's  claim  a  mission  called  Irish 
Settlement,  but  its  whereabouts  is  not  printed.  No 
doubt  there  was  such  a  place  which  the  Fathers 
attended.  The  U.  S.  Post  Office  did  not  in  those 
early  days  have  the  right  of  giving  the  names  to 
new  settlements,  or  at  least  did  not  exercise  it. 
Chaos  is  the  primitive  condition  in  new  countries 
and  it  requires  time  and  the  strain  of  many  incon- 
veniences to  install  the  order  of  civilization. 

The  many  letters  to  New  York  and  Boston 
newspapers  made  his  name  well  known  also  along 
the  Atlantic  Coast.  His  mail  was  unusually  large 
as  a  result.  To  the  mechanic  he  would  say:  "Stay 
where  the  factories  are,  go  to  work  at  what  you 
know  best.  Farming  is  not  a  slipshod  undertak- 
ing. A  farmer  must  know  the  soil  and  be  able  to 
till  it.  Farming  is  a  science,  it  is  an  industry  that 
requires  experience,  brains,  steady  habits,  a  strong 
heart  ready  to  meet  success  without  having  one's 
head  turned,  able  to  surmount  the  uncertainties 
that  come  with  weather,  drought,  and  insects,  flies 
and  grasshoppers.  A  farmer  must  be  studious, 
learning  every  new  method  and  agricultural  in- 
vention and  being  quick  in  using  them.  He  must 
be  sober  and  never  get  tired.  Don't  come  to  the 
western  prairies  unless  you  are  ready  and  willing 
to  labor  in  sunshine  and  storm,  in  failure  and  suc- 
cess. The  farmer  must  be  an  early  riser  and  con- 
serve nature  by  going  to  bed  early.  If  you  are 
ready  to  accept  all  these  conditions,   come   west; 


76  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

and  there  are  many  more  chances  of  success  than 
there  are  dangers  of  failure." 

The  Boston  Pilot  had  a  large  circulation 
among  the  Irish  in  America.  It  was  extensively 
read  in  Ireland  also.  It  had  many  readers  among 
the  priests  there.  Father  Donnelly  frequently  re- 
ceived letters  from  the  Irish  parish  priests  in  rela- 
tion to  homes  for  their  own  immediate  families 
and  their  parishioners  contemplating  coming  to 
America.  The  result  was  that  a  number  of  the 
Irish  immigrants  of  the  '50s  and  '60s  took  up  farms 
in  Jackson  and  surrounding  counties  of  Missouri. 
Farm  land  was  cheap,  and  when  guided  by  Father 
Donnelly's  advice  they  invariably  succeeded.  At  this 
day  it  is  not  unusual  to  find  the  offspring  of  those 
pioneers  in  possession  of  the  original  farms  with 
enlarged  area,  satisfied  with  conditions  and  hold- 
ing sacred  the  memory  of  the  priest  who  induced 
their  fathers  and  grandfathers  to  acquire  western 
homes.  Before  Father  Donnelly  retired  from  In- 
dependence, many  of  his  countrypeople  were  suc- 
cessful businessmen  and  rich  contractors.  Many, 
very  many,  Catholics  who  amassed  fortunes  in 
Kansas  City  were  free  to  say  they  owed  their  start 
and  their  continued  success  to  the  advice  and  some- 
times the  help  they  received  from  Father  Donnelly, 
or  through  his  influence. 

From  the  very  day  of  his  arrival  all  through 
his  thirty-five  years  as  priest  he  saw  a  great  future 
for  Kansas  City.  When  it  became  the  gateway  for 
the  thousands  going  West  to  open  up  a  trade  with 
Mexico  by  the  Santa  Fe  Trail,  when  he  beheld 
armies  of  fortune-seekers  wild  with  the  lust  of 
gold  in  far-off  California  in  1849,  and  troopers  of 
the  get-rich-quick,  leaving  farms,  machine  shops 
and  banks  in  the  quest  of  the  same  rich  metal  at 
Pike's  Peak  in  1859,  when  he  saw  young  men  from 
colleges   and    universities   of   Massachusetts   and 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  77 

New  York  coming  to  the  Kansas  prairies  and  towns 
to  grow  up  and  grow  great,  like  Senator  Ingalls, 
in  the  West,  he  would  repeat  with  pleasure  his  be- 
lief in  the  future  of  his  city.  ''Everyone  who  passes 
through  will  speak  of  the  natural  advantages  of 
the  city  geographically.  Coming  or  going,  the 
western  traveler  must  pass  through  Kansas  City. 
The  very  center  of  the  United  States,*  by  mathe- 
matical calculation  and  by  the  help  of  the  compass, 
is  within  a  very  few  miles  of  our  city.  All  roads 
led  to  Rome — it  was  the  center  of  the  Old  World. 
All  roads  must  and  do  lead  to  Kansas  City,  the 
geographical  center  and  the  coming  business  cen- 
ter of  our  country."  Newspapers,  magazines  and 
illustrated  journals  were  writing  up  Kansas  City, 
the  town  that  ushers  you  into  the  vast  plains  and 
the  home  of  the  buffaloes.  Every  arrival  left  at 
least  some  money  there  and  joined  in  the  predic- 
tion that  Kansas  City  had  a  great  future.  From 
every  boat  a  few  would  stop  off  to  make  their 
homes  there.  Poets  and  artists  would  get  off  the 
boats  to  purchase  food  and  tents  for  a  stay  on  the 
prairies.  From  Kansas  City  through  Kansas  the 
vast  rollirg  plains  were  called  prairies.  The  geog- 
raphies in  the  schools  and  the  metropolitan  news- 
papers always  said  "deserts."  There  was  the  great 
American  desert  unfolding  itself  in  gentle  undu- 
lations and  rising  in  altitude  until  it  reached  the 
grade  of  9,000  feet  above  the  ocean,  where  it  lost 
its  identity  in  the  foothills  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. The  literary  invaders  to  the  land  of  the 
cactus  and  buffalo-grass  and  sand  entered  with  the 
popular  idea  of  the  desert.  But  the  popular  idea 
was  unlike  the  thing  itself. 

*The  geographical  center  of  the  United  States  is  on  a 
farm  ten  miles  north  of  Smith  Center,  Kansas. 


78         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

The  ground  was  bare  and  sometimes  level, 
but  frequently  diversified  with  hills  and  valleys. 
Its  sandy  bareness,  except  for  occasional  tufts  of 
grass  that  were  bristling  and  brittle,  and  the  ef- 
fect of  sun  and  cloud,  heat  and  distance,  resulted 
in  a  perpetual  shifting  and  varying  color.    By  this 
play  of  air  and  sky,  its  primary  tones  of  red,  yel- 
low, blue,  dazzling  white  and  dazzling  black,  were 
constantly    changing    into    hazes,    transparencies, 
lights  and  shadows  of  infinite  variety  and  beauty. 
It  was  never  monotonous  because   it  was  never 
twice  the  same.     This  was  Nature  at  its  very  best, 
before  commerce  built  its  roads  of  steel  from  Kan- 
sas City  to  the  Rockies.     This  was  Nature  as  the 
poet  and  artist  saw  it  before  civilization  dotted  it 
with  human  habitations  and  lined  it  with  macadam 
and  asphalt  passways.     This  was  the  way  Nature 
painted  its  own  canvas,  stretching  from  Missouri 
to  the  sublime  Rockies.    Poets  raved  over  a  beauty 
and  sublimity  they  never  saw  before  and  never 
dreamed  of.     Kansas  City  was  alive  to  the  oppor- 
tunities of  such  a  scenic  display  at  its  very  doors. 
The   literary  artist  was  busy  with   circulars  and 
handbooks   for  the   East   and   South,   and   for   the 
professional  traveler   and   hunter  from  England, 
whose  vacations  up  to  that  time  had  been  spent  in 
shooting  the  wild  beasts  of  Asia  and  Africa.  Every 
scheme  to  advertise  the  promising  future  of  Kansas 
City  was  used  by  the  city  council  and  the  citizens. 
Mr.  C.  C.  Spaulding,  a  young  newspaperman  and 
civil  engineer,  in  December,  1857,  published  a  book 
of   about   150   pages    showing   the   natural   advan- 
tages of  Kansas  City  and  giving  a  short  history  of 
the   town    and   the    enterprise    of   its   merchants. 
Copies    were   handed   the    passengers    on    steam- 
boats as  they  landed  at  the  wharf.     The  boats 
gave  ample  time  for  the  passengers  to  view  the 
city,  and  when  sightseeing  was  over  a  sumptuous 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  79 

banquet  was  spread  in  the  hotel  on  the  levee  front. 
All  this  kindness  and  hospitality  had  its  results. 
Some  of  the  passersby  made  investments  in  real 
estate  before  leaving,  others  afterwards,  and  all 
remembered  and  told  others  of  their  favorable  im- 
pressions of  the  city.  The  stir  at  the  wharf,  the 
large  amounts  of  incoming  and  outgoing  freight, 
the  oxen  trains  on  the  levee  loading  and  unloading, 
all  presaged  a  coming  metropolis.  The  commer- 
cial standing  of  Kansas  City  became  a  subject  dis- 
cussed from  the  source  of  the  Missouri  down  to 
St.  Louis  and  off  to  the  far  East.  Never  even  in 
its  many  boom  days  of  the  '70s  and  '90s,  did  Kan- 
sas City  attract  such  attention.  Its  growth  looked 
substantial,  new  buildings  were  going  up,  business 
houses  increased,  and  the  limits  of  its  city  lines 
were  outgrown. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CIVIL   WAR   DAYS   AND   THE    BURIED 
TREASURE. 


DARK  portentous  cloud  was  soon  observed 
in  the  east  and  south.  The  financial  de- 
pression of  1857  was  but  a  light  visita- 
tion compared  with  the  threatened  disrup- 
tion of  the  Union  of  the  States.  Civil  war  had 
been  hinted  and  seemed  imminent.  The  burning 
question  of  slavery  could  not  be  settled  in  the  legis- 
lative halls  at  Washington.  It  was  thought  for 
some  time  that  a  compromise  had  been  effected  by 
the  drawing  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line.  All 
south  of  that  line  would  continue  to  recognize  slav- 
ery of  the  colored  race.  North  of  that  line  white 
and  black  would  be  free  citizens.  The  question  of 
admitting  the  Territory  of  Kansas  into  the  sister- 
hood of  states  swelled  the  slavery  issue  into  a 
heated  discussion  and  soon  into  threats  of  disunion 
and  war.  A  new  political  party  came  into  exist- 
ence and  made  its  first  appeal  for  extinction  of 
slavery  in  the  presidential  campaign  of  1856.  It 
was  defeated  at  the  polls.  Its  candidate  was  Gen- 
eral Fremont.  It  was  the  Abolition  Party.  Defeat 
only  aroused  a  determination  to  force  its  principle 
by  war  measures.  The  new  state  was  to  be  the 
field  of  contention,  no  matter  what  the  nature  of 
that  contention.  Young  and  determined  "Free 
Statesmen"  came  in  numbers  from  Boston,  Brook- 
lyn and  the  New  England  States,  and  bought  lands 
and  went  into  the  cities  of  Kansas  along  the  Mis- 
souri River  and  built  up  towns  in  the  interior  of 
the  Territory.  They  published  newspapers  and 
made  speeches  in  the  little  settlements,  demanding 
that    slavery    be    kept    out    of    the    coming    state. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         81 

Strange  to  say,  many  of  the  most  ardent  advocates 
of  making  Kansas  a  Free  State  were  people  living 
in  Kansas  but  natives  of  Southern  states.  They 
wanted  no  slaves  in  the  free  atmosphere  of  their 
new  home.  Missouri  was  for  slavery  and  its 
spread.  Each  side  brought  forward  its  most  vio- 
lent if  not  its  ablest  orators.  Threats  followed 
intemperate  speeches.  Violence  and  bloodshed  with 
armed  invasions  into  Missouri  and  back  again  into 
Kansas  were  frequent.  John  Brown  was  driven 
from  the  West.  He  renewed  his  efforts  of  forcibly 
wiping  out  slavery  in  the  State  of  Virginia.  He 
was  captured  by  the  militia  of  Virginia  and  was 
hanged. 

The  election  of  Abraham  Lincoln  in  1860  was 
soon  followed  by  civil  war.  The  whole  nation  was 
paralyzed  for  four  years.  Missouri  was  the  seat 
of  war  during  all  those  terrible  years.  St.  Louis 
was  under  martial  law  and  so  was  Kansas   City. 

Jackson  County  from  the  admission  of  Kanzas 
Territory  into  the  Union  of  States,  and  all  during 
the  Civil  War,  was  a  storm  center  for  Unionists 
and  Secessionists.  General  Ewing's  "Order  No. 
11"  devastated  nearly  all  the  county  from  Inde- 
pendence south,  east  and  west.  Many  of  the  in- 
habitants were  ordered  south  of  the  Mason  and 
Dixon  line,  and  many  fought  with  the  North  and 
the  South  in  the  armies.  The  county  was  almost 
depopulated,  and  Kansas  City  and  Independence 
fell  off  in  population.  The  sale  of  army  supplies 
was  the  only  business  transacted. 

The  Battle  of  Westport  was  waged  from  Oc- 
tober 21st  to  23rd,  1864.  This  made  Kansas  City 
a  battlefield.  The  citizens  were  divided  on  the 
issues  of  the  day,  and  were  fighting  under  Gen- 
erals Price  and  Curtis  during  those  three  days. 
Father  Donnelly's  parishioners  and  friends  were 
on  both  sides.     He  was  personally  acquainted  with 


82         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

the  commanders.  The  first  sound  of  the  clash  of 
arms  found  him  on  the  battlefield  to  give  his 
priestly  services  wherever  needed.  He  helped  as 
nurse  to  bandage  the  wounds  and  stanch  the  blood 
of  the  fallen  and  helped  to  carry  the  stricken  to 
places  of  security.  He  heard  confessions  and  pre- 
pared the  wounded  for  death,  and  whispered  con- 
solation to  the  dying;  he  removed  the  dead,  and 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night  dug  trenches  in  which 
to  bury  them.  When  Price  retreated  southward 
he  directed  the  removal  of  the  wounded  to  im- 
provised hospitals  in  the  deserted  buildings  in  West- 
port  and  Kansas  City.  For  several  long  weeks  he 
gave  every  moment  of  his  time  except  while  say- 
ing Mass  to  this  work  of  charity.  All  business 
had  ceased  and  Kansas  City  seemed  deserted  ex- 
cept for  the  work  of  physicians  and  undertakers; 
Father  Donnelly  had  been  a  leader  in  the  days  of 
Kansas  City's  progress;  now  in  the  night  of  its 
affliction  he  was  its  consolation  and  its  closest 
friend.  People  looked  to  him  as  to  a  father.  When 
angry  contention  was  inflaming  men's  passions  to 
war  no  man  could  say  he  took  side  either  way. 
Whatever  were  his  sentiments  he  hid  them  in  the 
secrets  of  his  soul.  He  voted  at  every  election, 
but  never  attended  any  political  meetings  during 
that  time.  He  saw  that  war  was  inevitable.  His 
constant  prayer  was  that  this  land  of  freedom  and 
happiness  would  survive  the  shock  of  bloody  con- 
flict and  emerge  a  stronger  nation  and  a  more 
brotherly  family.  His  services  at  the  Battle  of 
Westport  were  thanked  in  the  military  orders  of 
the  two  commanding  generals. 

On  the  eve  of  the  Battle  of  Westport  in  the 
fall  of  '64  panic  was  in  the  air.  Sterling  Price 
of  the  Confederate  Army  had  won  a  victory  over 
the  Union  troops  under  Mulligan  at  Lexington  in 
September,  1861,  and  now  rumors  of  his  approach 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         83 

to  attack  Kansas  City  and  Westport  flew  thick  and 
fast.  Before  leaving  Lexington,  it  was  learned, 
Price  had  seized  on  the  funds  in  the  local  banks 
and  the  fear  was  widespread  that  he  would  do  the 
same  thing  when  he  reached  Kansas  City.  There 
was  a  rush  on  the  banks,  accounts  were  checked 
out  by  hundreds  of  people  and  the  money  taken  to 
their  homes  and  concealed  in  various  places.  Then 
the  thought  occurred  to  many  of  them  that  perhaps 
their  homes  would  be  looted,  and  they  began  to 
look  about  for  more  secure  hiding  places.  At  that 
time  Father  Donnelly  was  Kansas  City's  "Vicar 
of  Wakefield,"  known  and  trusted  by  everybody, 
Catholics  and  Protestants  alike.  He  was  known 
to  be  an  old  acquaintance  of  many  of  the  Confed- 
erate leaders,  and  a  friend  of  General  Price,  per- 
sonally known  and  respected  by  his  soldiers  as  well. 
It  was  known  that  previous  to  his  coming  to  Mis- 
souri, his  life,  after  leaving  Ireland,  had  been  spent 
largely  near  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line.  He  had 
been  an  Irish  patriot  in  the  homeland,  and  that 
meant  a  rebel.  So  the  belief  grew  that  Father 
Donnelly  would  be  one  man  that  would  be  immune 
from  search  by  the  invading  army  and  the  one 
man  who  could  be  trusted  to  conceal  securely  the 
threatened  funds.  The  afternoon  before  the  Battle 
of  Westport  hundreds  of  his  own  countrymen  and 
church  members,  as  well  as  a  large  number  of 
others,  came  singly  and  in  twos  and  threes  up 
through  the  trees  and  ravine  adjoining  the  pastor's 
residence  and  church,  bringing  money  in  cans  and 
jars  and  purses,  and  asking  Father  Donnelly  to 
take  care  of  it  for  them  until  the  trouble  was  over. 
They  felt  certain  that  Price  would  not  molest  him. 
They  knew  that  his  ministrations  as  priest  would 
be  in  demand  for  the  dying  and  the  wounded  of 
both  armies  and  that  his  person  and  his  property 


84         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

would  be  held  sacred  by  even  the  worst  of  the 
marauders. 

He  often  told  that  he  had  shrunk  at  first  from 
the  great  responsibility  thrust  upon  him  as  care- 
taker of  other  people's  money  in  those  troublous 
times,  that  he  tried  to  convince  the  people  that 
war  was  no  respecter  of  persons  when  army  needs 
were  pressing,  and  that  a  contingency  might  arise 
in  which  he  would  be  no  more  immune  than  the 
rest  of  them.  But  they  would  not  listen  to  him. 
The  women  wept  and  the  men  pleaded,  and  he 
finally  yielded  to  their  wishes.  They  came  like  so 
many  depositors  to  a  bank.  He  opened  up  a  mem- 
orandum book.  He  entered  names  and  amounts. 
The  darkness  of  the  evening  was  growing.  His 
only  light  was  from  one  small  candle  which  threw 
a  fitful  glimmer  around  the  room.  He  had  been 
a  schoolmaster  before  he  became  a  priest  and  the 
methodical  habits  of  his  teaching  days  clung  to 
him.  He  wrote  out  carefully  and  stopoed  fre- 
quently to  read  over  the  names,  to  see  if  he  had 
spelled  them  right.  The  waiting  crowd  grew  nerv- 
ous and  restless.  Price  was  at  the  edge  of  town, 
he  might  be  at  their  doors  in  a  few  hours.  Many 
of  the  women,  anxious  to  gret  back  to  their  homes 
and  little  ones,  threw  th^ir  pcketbooks  on  the 
table,  simply  saying-  "Here,  Father  Donnelly, 
there  are  so  many  dollars  there.  Yon  know  our 
names  and  where  we  live.  Put  it  away  for  us.  We 
must  o-et  bark  home." 

When  the  crowd  had  finallv  denarted.  Father 
Donnellv  said,  there  were  bundles  of  monev  left 
there  without  any  name  attached  and  impossible  of 
identification  by  memorv  of  the  words  or  faces  of 
those  who  left  them.  The  reader  may  judge  what 
an  unbusinesslike  jumble  it  all  was  for  both  priest 
and  people.     But  they  were  in  the  midst  of  the 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  85 

panic  and  terror  of  war  and  heads  were  not  cool. 
It  was  a  choice  of  saving  or  losing  all,  they  thought. 

When  left  to  himself,  Father  Donnelly  was 
shocked  by  his  foolhardiness.  A  thousand  misgiv- 
ings went  through  his  mind.  How  would  he  get 
the  money  out  of  harm's  way?  Where  would  he 
find  a  secure  hiding  place?  Then  the  thought  came 
to  him :  "Dead  men  rest  untouched  in  the  grave- 
yard; I  will  bury  the  people's  money  in  the  cem- 
etery." The  cemetery  was  two  blocks  west  of  his 
residence  on  Broadway.  It  ran  along  Pennsylvania 
Avenue  from  Twelfth  to  Eleventh  Streets  on  the 
east,  and  west  about  150  feet  from  what  is  now 
the  west  line  of  Jefferson  Street.  The  gravedigger 
lived  nearby.  Carrying  the  money  in  a  large 
wooden  box,  Father  Donnelly  went  in  the  black 
night  to  the  sexton's  home,  called  him  and  told  him 
to  get  a  wheelbarrow,  a  spade,  and  a  broom.  To- 
gether they  entered  the  graveyard  and  soon  found 
a  plot  of  grass  growing  in  a  pathway.  The  sod  was 
carefully  removed  and  a  hole  dug  in  which  the  box 
was  buried.  Then  the  sod  was  replaced  and  the 
loose  dirt  carefully  swept  away. 

That  very  night  word  came  to  Father  Donnelly 
that  Tom,  the  old  sexton,  under  the  influence  of  a 
few  drinks,  had  divulged  the  secret  to  a  crowd  in 
a  saloon  at  Main  and  Eighth  Streets.  After  a 
hurried  consultation,  four  trusty  men,  armed  with 
shotguns  and  led  by  Father  Donnelly,  went  to  the 
cemetery,  dug  up  the  treasure  and  buried  it  anew 
back  of  the  little  brick  church.  After  the  guard 
retired  the  priest  began  worrying  about  the  secur- 
ity of  his  new  hiding  place,  and  before  daylight 
went  out  alone,  with  no  prying  eyes  and  no  one  to 
be  burdened  with  the  temptation  of  his  confidence, 
dug  up  the  box  a  second  time  and  gave  it  another 
burial  in  a  remote  spot  some  distance  north  of  its 
second  hiding  place,   pacing  the   distance  between 


86  Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

them  and  marking  down,  as  he  thought,  the  accu- 
rate measurements  and  landmarks  of  the  new  de- 
pository. 

The  Battle  of  Westport  came  on.  The  three 
days  that  the  battle  was  waged  from  the  Kansas 
State  line  through  Westport  toward  what  is  now 
Swope  Park  were  busy  days  for  Father  Donnelly. 
His  good  offices  as  priest  and  nurse  were  in  con- 
stant demand.  The  dead  and  dying  filled  the  homes 
all  along  the  countryside  adjacent  to  the  battle- 
ground. When  Price  retired  south  the  priest  re- 
turned to  continue  his  Samaritan  work  in  the  im- 
provised hospitals  of  the  city.  It  was  fully  a 
month  before  he  was  able  to  resume  his  duties  in 
the  church.  When  he  was  able  to  return  to  his 
own  house  his  first  thought  was  of  the  buried 
treasure.  It  seemed  best  to  him  to  transfer  the  box 
to  his  house  and  call  upon  the  owners  to  come  and 
get  their  money.  Taking  a  spade  he  went  out  under 
cover  of  night  and  dug  in  the  spot  where  he  was 
sure  the  box  had  been  hidden. 

An  hour's  labor  brought  nothing  to  light.  With 
anxious  forebodings  he  went  back  and  measured  the 
paces  he  had  counted  from  the  angle  of  the  church 
and  dug  again;  moved  a  few  feet  further  and  dug 
again;  then  a  few  feet  northward — but  there  was 
no  box.  Daylight  found  him  still  fruitlessly  dig- 
ging. The  next  night  was  a  repetition  of  the  pre- 
vious one,  followed  by  the  startling  conviction  that 
he  had  hidden  too  well  or  someone  had  spied  too 
keenly.    The  box  was  never  found. 

Father  Donnelly,  when  he  had  abandoned  all 
hope  of  recovering  the  buried  money,  went  to  a 
friendly  banker,  made  an  estimate  of  the  sums  that 
had  been  placed  in  his  hands,  and  borrowed  the 
money  necessary  to  repay  them,  giving  a  mortgage 
on  some  farm  lands  as  security.  As  the  claims 
were  presented  he  paid  them  off. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  87 

Ten  years  afterwards  Father  Donnelly  was 
stricken  with  fever.  There  was  no  hospital  here 
then  and  no  professional  nurses.  He  was  cared 
for  by  his  aged  sister  and  two  nieces  in  his  home, 
and  the  good  Sisters  of  St.  Teresa's  Academy  lent 
their  aid.  One  night  he  seemed  much  improved 
and  his  relatives  and  the  Sisters  felt  that  he  could 
pass  the  night  without  attendants.  He  had  told 
them  so  and  begged  them  to  go  to  their  homes. 
Early  the  next  morning  the  Sisters  went  to  his 
door,  found  it  open,  and  the  patient  gone.  An  alarm 
was  spread  and  after  some  time  spent  in  anxious 
search  the  venerable  priest  was  found,  in  sparse  at- 
tire, digging  in  the  graveyard.  In  his  delirium  he 
had  fancied  that  the  lost  treasure  had  been  moved 
back  to  its  first  hiding  place. 

Again  a  few  years,  and  Father  Donnelly  was 
himself  carried  to  the  cemetery  and  like  the  wooden 
box  in  his  enforced  trust,  some  time  later  he  was 
taken  up  and  buried  in  another  grave  in  the  base- 
ment of  the  then  new  cathedral,  where,  "After 
life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well."  To  the  last  days 
of  his  life  the  buried  treasure  was  on  his  mind.  Its 
disappearance  was  a  mystery  that  has  never  been 
explained.  Whether  in  the  excitement  of  the  times 
he  had  forgotten  the  real  hiding  place,  or  whether 
someone  else  discovered  it  and  removed  the  box 
during  his  absence,  was  never  known.  If  it  still 
remained  in  the  earth  perhaps  by  this  time  it  has 
moldered  into  dust,  or  perhaps  some  digger's  spade- 
ful of  earth  will  yet  reveal  the  secret. 


CHAPTER  X. 
RECONSTRUCTION  DAYS. 

'ANSAS  CITY  seemed  for  a  while  to  have 
lost  its  very  life.  Many  of  its  citizens  were 
wounded,  dying,  or  dead,  or  still  fighting 
in  the  closing  days  of  the  war.  Peace 
brought  home  the  soldiers  of  the  North  and  the 
South.  Angry  feelings  soon  subsided.  An  old 
ambition  was  revived,  an  old  rivalry  was  aroused, 
the  cry  of  peaceful  days  was  taken  up  and  went 
from  mouth  to  mouth:  "Let  us  make  Kansas  City 
a  great  city!"  Meetings  were  called.  The  object 
was  Kansas  City's  good.  Father  Donnelly  could 
be  seen  at  every  meeting.  He  joined  in  the  dis- 
cussions and  cordially  seconded  every  good 
scheme.  Kansas  City's  population  of  from  six  to 
eight  thousands  before  the  war  was  down  now  in 
the  hundreds.  The  rival  cities  all  had  suffered 
from  the  war,  but  none  so  much  as  Kansas  City. 
War  had  entered  Kansas  City's  gates — the  other 
cities  only  felt  its  shock.  Every  city  on  the  north 
turn  of  the  Missouri  River  was  striving  for  the 
same  result — supremacy  on  its  banks.  Kansas 
City  held  that  position  before  war  days.  She  had 
been  the  Gate  of  Entry.  Supremacy  now  would  be- 
long to  the  first  city  bringing  an  eastern  railroad 
into  its  limits  and  then  forcing  that  railroad  oyer 
the  river  to  the  mountains  and  to  the  Pacific 
Ocean.  Railroads  were  becoming  the  means  of 
travel  and  the  way  of  transportation — quick  transit 
for  man  and  freight.  Steamboats  were  slow  in 
comparison.  Kansas  City  business  men — there 
were  no  capitalists  then  nearer  than  St.  Louis,  New 
York  or  Boston — had  lost  their  savings  of  years  of 
industry;  the  few  men  who  had  valuable  property 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  89 

had  lost  it  or  could  hardly  be  called  owners  be- 
cause of  mortgages  and  taxes.  St.  Joseph  still  held 
its  solid  citizens.  Atchison  was  ambitious  for  as- 
cendency and  was  backed  by  aspiring,  eastern- 
spirited  people  in  Kansas.  Leavenworth  was  the 
trading  post  for  the  army  and  wealth  increased 
there  during  the  war  because  of  the  government's 
fort  and  its  patronage.  Weston  was  a  steady  town 
secured  by  its  judicious,  saving  German  citizens. 
"A  bridge  across  the  river,"  was  the  slogan.  Meet- 
ings were  held  in  all  these  towns  and  after  much 
enthusiasm  adjourned  to  create  further  sentiment 
and  to  reach  the  approval  and  help  of  everyone  in 
the  respective  neighborhoods.  Kansas  City  was 
just  breathing — resuscitation  had  hardly  taken 
place.  Eastern  newspapers  were  joking  about  the 
fight  of  the  Missouri  River  towns  to  build  a  bridge. 
Kansas  City's  name  was  never  mentioned  among 
the  rivals. 

On  winter  nights  in  1867,  Father  Donnelly  used 
to  relate,  a  few  old  chums  would  frequently  meet 
in  the  back  room  of  the  little  rented  Postoffice 
near  the  river,  to  laugh  and  joke  over  the  contest 
for  the  bridge  in  other  cities,  doing  their  usual 
guessing  and  well  wishing.  As  the  pleasantries 
subsided  one  of  those  present  cried  out:  "What 
about  Kansas  City's  getting  into  the  fight?"  A 
guffaw  laugh  followed.  Then  an  interchange  of 
hospitality.  Then  the  question  was  renewed.  The 
fun  in  the  question  gradually  abated.  Kansas 
City's  contempt  for  its  northern  neighbors  and 
rivals  seemed  to  grow  in  the  little  gathering.  No 
arguments  followed.  Kansas  City  in  the  past  when 
it  meant  anything  never  thought  of  discussion — 
it  simply  saw  and  did  the  thing.  "We  can  get  all 
the  money  needed;  we  are  not  poor.  Our  banks 
will  back  up  their  customers.  Let  us  get  going." 
Checks  were  drawn  out.     Everyone  present  was 


90         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

a  committee  to  arouse  the  bankers.  Horses  were 
mounted  and  every  man  with  money  within  a 
radius  of  ten  miles  was  ordered  out  of  bed.  When 
the  second  morning  cast  its  light,  reports  were 
nearly  all  handed  in  at  the  rendezvous.  The 
bankers  accepted  the  checks  and  drew  up  orders 
on  their  eastern  correspondents.  The  amount  de- 
manded to  insure  the  bridge  was  on  hand.  Before 
noon  four  of  Kansas  City's  enterprising  citizens 
had  started  for  the  nearest  railroad,  miles  east. 
When  they  presented  themselves  in  the  general 
office  of  the  railroad  interests  away  off  in  Boston 
they  handed  their  certified  checks  from  Kansas  City 
banks  to  the  capitalists  who  owned  the  North  Mis- 
souri Railroad,  now  the  Wabash  Railroad.  Those 
checks  were  large  enough  to  justify  bringing  the 
railroad  from  Cameron  Junction  to  what  is  now 
North  Kansas  City,  then  Harlem,  and  to  meet  the 
bonus  for  the  bridge.  On  July  4th,  1869,  the  com- 
pletion of  the  bridge  was  celebrated.  St.  Louis 
sent  two  dozen  cars  crowded  with  its  best  citizens, 
headed  by  the  mayor  and  common  council.  The 
best  of  feeling  was  exhibited  by  the  rival  river 
cities  in  the  hundreds  of  people  present  from  St. 
Joseph,  Weston,  Atchison  and  Leavenworth.  Kan- 
sas City's  supremacy  was  admitted  and  Kansas 
City's  hospitality  was  in  keeping  with  its  conquer- 
ing greatness. 

Father  Donnelly  spent  days  on  horseback 
soliciting  additional  subscriptions  for  the  bridge 
among  his  old  neighbors  in  Jackson  County.  On 
the  day  of  the  celebration  he  figured  on  the  vari- 
ous committees.  War  was  over,  its  rancour  had 
dissipated,  Kansas  City  was  established  as  a  fix- 
ture. No  man  was  happier  than  the  patriotic 
priest. 

Colonel  Van  Horn,  owner  and  editor  of  the 
Kansas  City  Journal  and  one  of  Kansas  City's  best 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  91 

and  most  loyal  citizens,  is  authority  for  the  state- 
ment that  Kansas  City  had  fallen  in  population 
from  6000  to  less  than  1000  in  1865.  The  United 
States  census  of  1870  showed  it  a  city  of  32,000. 
Its  growth  went  on. 

The  failure  of  Jay  Cook  in  1873  brought  on  a 
commercial  collapse  that  passed  from  Boston  and 
New  York  to  San  Francisco.  Kansas  City  scarcely 
felt  the  shock.  Three  of  its  strongest  local  banks 
failed  in  1874  and  1875.  Grasshoppers  swept  the 
state  of  Kansas,  its  tributary  and  mainstay,  of 
every  blade  of  grass  and  every  vestige  of  corn, 
wheat,  oats  and  vegetables  in  1874.  A  dishonesty 
in  the  city's  finances  amounting  to  some  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  dollars  forced  an  issue  of  script 
that  was  accepted  outside  the  city  at  less  than 
twenty  cents  on  the  dollar.  Inside  of  one  year  it 
was  everywhere  accepted  at  its  face  value.  Three 
wild  real  estate  booms  brought  their  natural  result. 
Yet  Kansas  City  grew  and  its  population  in  1880 
was  more  than  fifty  thousand. 


CHAPTER  XL 
FATHER  DONNELLY  A  MISSIONARY. 


fi 


•ATHER  DONNELLY  was  resident  pastor 
of  Independence  from  1845  to  1857.  His 
headquarters  and  his  home  were  there. 
His  assignment  was  not  confined  to  the 
little  village  of  the  Kaw — Kaw  Town,  or  the  town 
of  Kanzas.  He  was  instructed  to  traverse  at 
least  once  a  year  all  that  part  of  southwest  Mis- 
souri from  Kansas  on  the  west  to  the  lines  of  the 
Lexington  parish  on  the  east,  and  south  to  the 
Arkansas  state  line.  As  the  reader  stops  in  amaze- 
ment at  the  little  world  Father  Donnelly  was  to 
traverse,  it  should  not  be  overlooked  that  this  is 
the  same  Father  Donnelly  who  a  few  days  before 
he  came  to  this  expansive  charge  made  his  first 
trial  at  horseback  riding  on  his  way  from  St.  Louis 
to  Old  Mines.  The  reverend  Father  was  not  an 
enthusiastic  youth  full  of  dreams  of  sure  victory 
and  impossible  defeat.  "There  lies  my  mission," 
sprang  to  his  mind,  but  the  poetic  temperament,  if 
ever  his,  was  not  his  to  make  conclusion  with  "and 
I'll  make  it  a  garden  of  ease  and  pleasure."  The 
new  pastor  had  bade  farewell  to  more  than  forty 
years  of  a  struggling  life.  When  he  painted  a 
dream  picture  he  went  to  the  realistic  style.  Here 
was  a  field  of  labor  covering  over  20,000  square 
miles.  The  examples  of  early  missionaries  in  the 
Illinois  country,  along  the  lakes  and  in  the  far 
Northwest,  and  along  the  Missouri  River  and  south 
into  Texas,  were  indeed  encouraging.  "If  those 
could  do  such  deeds  why  cannot  I?"  The  real  red- 
blooded  Irishman  never  takes  a  dare  and  when  the 
seasons  favorable  for  traveling  came  Father  Don- 
nelly was  on  his  Indian  pony.     He  had  mastered 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         93 

the  horse  as  he  had  mastered  many  an  awkward  and 
stubborn  difficulty.  Three  different  times  in  his 
twelve  years  at  Independence  he  went  southeast 
and  west  wherever  he  knew  there  was  a  Catholic 
and  where  he  thought  he  could  add  to  the  Church  by 
a  conversion.  He  touched  every  excuse  of  a  town 
in  his  demense — there  was  not  a  single  hamlet  big 
enough  to  be  called  a  town,  by  the  people,  much 
less  to  be  entitled  to  the  name  by  a  legislative  re- 
quirement. A  number  of  the  Catholics  he  found 
here  and  there  were  cold  in  faith  as  in  practice. 
Others  had  intermarried  with  non-Catholics  and  had 
joined  some  of  the  sects.  He  preached  and  said 
Mass  in  school  houses,  very  few  and  far  between, 
then,  in  Missouri.  On  more  than  one  occasion  he 
spoke  to  the  "natives" — a  popular  name  and  a 
cherished  one — in  their  little  rude  churches  when 
their  own  religious  services  were  over  for  the  Sun- 
day. Although  the  times  were  rife  with  the  pre- 
judices and  hatred  against  "Romanism"  consequent 
on  the  nation-wide  spread  of  "Knownothingism," 
Father  Donnelly  was  happy  to  say  that  he  received 
an  attentive  reception  wherever  he  lectured.  In  In- 
dependence, also,  he  attended  the  civic  and  even 
know-nothing  meetings  and  took  part  in  the  discus- 
sions. The  kindness  he  experienced  made  him  ever 
afterwards  extol  the  American  sense  of  fairplay. 

He  studied  the  real  American  character  and 
became  convinced  it  compared  favorably  with  the 
best  he  found  in  the  people  from  other  countries. 
They  were  innocent  of  the  world's  worst.  Their 
lives  were  simple.  Existence  was  a  struggle.  They 
were  illiterate  because  there  were  no  schools  in 
the  East  and  South  where  they  sprang  from — 
there  were  no  books.  The  farms  they  entered  were 
small  and  scarcely  productive.  Their  methods  of 
farming  were  crude  in  the  extreme.  The  lethargy 
of  the  hot  South  was  embedded  in  their  every  fiber. 


94         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

They  were  devoid  of  ambition,  they  could  not  go 
higher  and  they  never  dreamed  of  improving  their 
condition.  They  seemed  to  have  no  red  blood  in 
their  veins ;  their  blood  was  poisoned  by  the  miasma 
from  swamps  and  upturning  of  hitherto  untouched 
soil;  their  faces  were  thin  and  pale.  They  were  a 
race  of  new  aborigines  in  that  they  had  the  wan- 
dering spirit  and  the  listlessness  of  the  Indian. 
They  had  his  readiness  to  resent  an  injury  or  an 
insult,  they  had  his  long-sightedness  and  quickness 
of  vision;  they  could  bring  down  the  fleetest  bird 
and  would  face  the  fiercest  animal  that  prowled 
the  sandy  plains  or  rugged  mountains.  The  pass- 
ing stranger  was  ever  welcome  to  their  frugal  meal 
and  invited  to  partake  of  their  hospitality. 

The  visits  Father  Donnelly  made  these  people 
resulted  in  a  few  conversions,  and  he  felt  his  time 
well  spent  as  he  recorded  that  some  fallen-away 
Catholics  and  their  families  came  back  to  the  Faith. 
During  his  absence  from  Independence  his  kind 
friends  and  predecessors  on  the  mission  at  Kansas 
City  and  Independence,  the  Jesuit  Fathers  who 
were  in  attendance  along  the  Missouri  from  St. 
Louis,  looked  after  his  parish. 

He  had  just  made  his  third  tour,  in  1851,  to 
the  south  and  east  missions  when  he  remembered 
a  long-promised  visit  he  owed  his  old  friend  Father 
Hammil  at  Lexington.  Before  going  to  his  friend's 
home  he  stopped  at  the  village  hotel  to  secure  stable 
and  feed  for  his  horse.  The  weather  was  intensely 
cold.  The  cheerful  fire  in  the  hotel  office  invited 
him  to  take  the  chill  out  of  hands  and  feet  and 
body.  The  office  was  filled  with  men  who  were 
listening  with  close  attention  to  a  man  who  was 
telling  about  a  marriage  ceremony  he  had  wit- 
nessed a  few  days  before  in  a  Catholic  church  at 
Independence.  The  richest  man  perhaps  west  of 
St.  Louis  was  married  by  the  priest  of  Independ- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         95 

ence   to   a   young   lady   named   Ann    Eliza    Keane, 
scarcely  seventeen  years  of  age.     The  groom  was 
fully   eighty   years   old.     The   news   was   so   unex- 
pected and  the  event  seemed  so  unusual  that  men 
expressed   their   doubts   and   thought  the   narrator 
was  just  making  up  as  he  went  along.     "But,  I  tell 
you,"  the  man  would  say,  "I  was  there,  I  saw  it, 
and  I  saw  the  old  gray-headed  priest  of  Independ- 
ence performing  the  ceremony."     Father  Donnelly 
was  the  priest  of  Independence  and  he  was  gray- 
headed,  but  he  knew  there  must  be  a  mistake  for 
he  had  not  performed  that  ceremony,  he  had  not 
been  at   Independence  for  nearly   six  weeks.     He 
could  no  longer  restrain  himself,  and  in  loud  tones 
interrupted  the  speaker :    "I  am  the  priest  of  Inde- 
pendence and  I  know  nothing  about  such  an  occur- 
rence."    "I  don't  care  who  you  are,  my  dear  sir, 
I  assure  you  I  saw  it  all  as  I  have  said.     I  know 
Mr.  Jabez  B.  Smith  and  I  am  acquainted  with  the 
bride  and  her  family."    It  was  too  much  for  Father 
Donnelly.     He   forgot   all   about   his   contemplated 
visit  and  went  at  once  to  the  stable  where  he  de- 
layed just  long  enough  to  give  his  poor  pony  time 
to  finish  his  oats  and  hay.     He  then  turned  the 
horse   towards   Independence.      "Jabez    Smith,    my 
parishioner  and  old  friend,   married  to  that   dear 
little  child  of  my  flock?     Impossible!     Not  to  be 
believed!"      When   late   the    next    day   he   reached 
Independence,  he  did  not  have  to  inquire;  people 
stopped  in  the  street  to  tell  him  about  the  mar- 
riage.    It  was  a  surprise  that  made  people  forget 
all  the  gossip   and  all  the  news   of  the  day.     He 
was  told  that   Father   Murphy,   the   pastor   of   St. 
Joseph,    Missouri,   had   been    telegraphed    for    and 
came  to  perform   the   ceremony.     The   newspaper 
stories  about  the  marriage  were  lying  on  his  desk. 
"And  that  both  parties  should  have  kept  the  mar- 
riage a  secret  from  me!"     If  often  happens  that 


96         Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

the  hardest  part  of  a  bad  story  is  kept  for  the  end 
of  the  narrative.  Father  Donnelly  had  to  hear  the 
same  finale  from  every  narrator:  "And  just  to 
think  of  it,  Father  Donnelly,  Mr.  J.  Smith  gave 
the  stranger  priest  one  hundred  dollars!"  "Did  the 
St.  Joseph  priest  leave  that  money  here  for  me?" 
he  inquired  from  his  domestic.  "Why,  no,  Father ; 
he  showed  it  to  everyone;  it  was  one  hundred  dol- 
lars in  twenty-dollar  gold  pieces." 

Time  cures  many  wounds,  but  not  in  this  in- 
stance. The  pain  rankled  in  his  breast  twenty 
years  afterwards  as  he  would  recount  the  affair. 
One  hundred  dollars  seems  today  a  trifle  to  worry 
about.  But  in  1851  one  hundred  dollars  in  gold 
was  equal  to  a  thousand  dollars  in  bank  notes  and 
in  purchasing  value.  The  money  the  laborer,  the 
mechanic  and  the  merchant  handled  was  known  as 
wild  cat  currency  and  was  issued  by  the  banks.  It 
was  worth  its  face  value  one  clay  and  the  next  day 
the  failure  of  the  bank  that  issued  it  made  it 
worthless.  Every  little  town  had  a  bank  or  two, 
and  the  banks,  to  the  extent  of  the  subscribed  and 
sometimes  paid-up  stock,  sent  forth  paper  bills 
frequently  greater  in  amounts  than  the  banks  had 
stock  or  cash  or  credit.  The  result  was  bank  col- 
lapses every  little  while.  To  protect  themselves  in 
handling  the  paper  currency  the  merchants  sub- 
scribed for  and  had  on  their  desks  a  paper  called 
the  Director,  published  every  week  in  the  larger 
cities  and  containing  the  names  of  the  banks  fail- 
ing over  the  country.  Father  Donnelly  had  filed 
away  a  number  of  paper  bills  which  he  had  ac- 
cepted during  those  days.  On  their  face  they 
amounted  to  several  hundred  dollars;  in  fact,  they 
were  valueless.  Now  comes  an  opportunity  to  be 
enriched  with  $100  in  real  money;  but  he  was 
away  from  home.  Another  clergyman  had  bene- 
fited by  the  absence.    When  Father  Donnelly  wrote 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly         97 

him  to  return  the  money,  the  answer  came,  "The 
laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire.  The  distance  back 
and  forth  to  perform  the  ceremony,  and  many  other 
inconveniences,  were  well  worth  the  offering."  "I 
was  then  a  priest  about  six  years,"  Father  Donnelly 
related  in  after  years,  "and  all  I  ever  received  on 
occasions  of  baptism  and  marriages,  if  all  added 
up,  would  hardly  total  $100  in  currency,  much  less 
in  gold." 


CHAPTER  XII. 
CATHOLIC    BEGINNINGS    AT    KANSAS    CITY. 

"^^^^HE  title  of  Resident  Pastor  was  given 
£  (T\  Father  Donnelly  on  the  day  of  his  ordina- 
V.  J  tion  when  he  was  assigned  to  Independ- 
^•^  ence.  The  title  was  a  recognition  of  the 
advance  of  the  church  on  the  west  boundary  of 
the  St.  Louis  diocese.  Father  Le  Roux  could 
hardly  be  named  a  resident  pastor,  for  that  would 
suggest  a  residence  and  a  fixed  class  of  parish- 
ioners. While  at  the  Kaw  he  lived  with  the 
Chouteau  family  and  spent  some  time  at  the  Chou- 
teau agencies  in  the  Territory.  The  Catholics  near 
the  Kaw  when  Father  Le  Roux  arrived  were  Cana- 
dians who  had  come  from  Trois  Rivieres  in  Canada 
and  who  claimed  Canada  for  their  country  and 
home,  who  came  as  laboring  men  in  the  employ 
of  the  American,  the  United  States,  and  the  Astor 
Trapping  and  Fur  Companies.  Numbers  of  them 
came  to  the  Kaw.  Few  of  them  were  married  and 
even  those  few  did  not  stay  long.  They  were  river 
wanderers.  The  small  per  cent  who  continued  here 
were  restless  and  indifferent  to  future  develop- 
ment. Some  bought  farms  in  the  west  bottoms, 
but  nearly  all  lost  them  in  the  flood  of  1844.  The 
Canadian  Catholics  who  purchased  property  along 
the  bluffs  overlooking  the  Missouri  River  had  In- 
dian blood  in  their  veins  or  were  married  to  Indian 
women.  They  could  not,  they  would  not,  build  church, 
schools,  or  support  a  pastor.  The  Chouteaus  were 
western  Astors  on  a  small  scale.  St.  Louis  was 
their  business  center,  and  their  warehouses  were 
nearby,  first  at  Chouteau  Landing,  east  of  the  site 
of  Kansas  City,  then  on  the  Levee,  then  in  the  Ter- 
ritory.    You  could  trace  them,  for  they  gave  their 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly  99 

name  to  every  post  and  new  place  they  located. 
They  were  good  business  men  and  at  least  their 
wives  were  good  practical  Catholics.  Their  home 
was  always  open  to  the  priest  and  their  gratuities 
made  life  bearable  for  the  missionaries.  The  writer 
sang  the  Mass  and  preached  at  the  funeral  of  the 
original  Mrs.  Chouteau. 

To  the   Catholic   Banner   Father   Donnelly   on 
March  7th,  1878,  wrote  the  following  letter: 

''We  are  not  to  suppose  that  Kansas  City  when 
first  founded  could  be  embellished  by  fine  speci- 
mens of  superb  architecture;  the  humble  log  cabin 
alone  afforded  shelter  and  security  to  its  primitive 
inhabitants.  The  axe,  the  hammer  and  the  augur 
were  almost  the  only  building  implements  in  use. 
The  hardy  hunters,  with  their  wives,  found  the 
Chouteau  trading  post  a  convenient  market  for 
their  furs  and  peltry.  Many  of  them  settled  down 
in  the  neighborhood  and  formed  with  their  fam- 
ilies the  first  Christian  congregation  on  the  site  of 
Kansas  City.  About  the  year  1834  the  Reverend 
Benedict  Le  Roux,  a  pious  and  learned  French 
priest,  was  sent  from  St.  Louis  as  pastor  of  the 
half-breed  congregation  at  Kansas  City.  During 
his  stay  a  contract  was  made  with  the  late  James 
Magee— the  father  of  all  the  Magees— to  build  a 
log  church  and  parsonage.  "Parsonage"  was  a  mis- 
nomer. It  was  never  large  enough  or  conveniently 
enough  arranged  to  be  an  abode  or  residence,  in  any 
sense,  for  a  priest.  No  one  ever  thought  of  even 
finding  a  night's  lodging  inside  its  confined  walls. 
Why,  people  tell  me  that  I  lived  there;  they  call 
it  Father  Donnelly's  first  parsonage.  I  have  to 
hear  this  and  sometimes  read  it  in  the  papers,  but 
I  grew  tired  long  ago  denying  it.  It  was  even  a 
poor  shelter  in  a  storm.  So-called  historians  of  the 
early  days  persist  in  saying  the  passing  Jesuit  mis- 
sionaries, and  I,  in  my  time,  lived  there.    Whenever 


100       Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

I  remained  here  over  night  from  my  residence  in 
Independence,  and  when  the  Jesuits  were  here  for 
a  stajr,  we  always  made  our  home  with  the  Chou- 
teau and  Guinotte  families.  Father  Le  Roux  built 
the  lodge  or  resting  house  as  well  as  the  log  church. 
The  brick  in  the  chimneys  of  both  church  and  lodge 
are  said  to  be  the  first  ever  manufactured  in  Kan- 
sas City." 

He  then  mentions  the  names  of  passing  church 
dignitaries  who  visited  Kansas  City  and  Independ- 
ence in  the  early  days,  names  which  are  given  in 
another  part  of  this  volume,  after  which  he  pre- 
sents to  the  readers  of  the  Catholic  Banner  the 
Right  Reverend  Bishop  Barron,  at  that  time  help- 
ing Bishop  Kenrick  in  his  large  diocese.  This 
diocese  extended  from  the  Mississippi  River,  taking 
in  almost  all  Upper  Louisiana.  About  the  Right 
Reverend  John  Barron,  Bishop  of  Liberia,  he  says : 
"He  stayed  a  month  between  Kansas  City  and  In- 
dependence, awaiting  the  arrival  of  Father  Ver- 
reydt,  S.  J.,  on  his  way  to  the  Pottawatomie  Mis- 
sion. Bishop  Barron  accompanied  him  to  the  mis- 
sion and  returned  to  Kansas  City  on  the  last  day 
of  the  year  1845.  On  the  first  day  of  January, 
1846,  I  came  to  Kansas  City  to  see  the  Bishop. 
He  asked  me  to  take  a  walk.  The  day  was  fine. 
The  Bishop  spoke  with  enthusiasm  of  the  Indian 
country,  describing  it  as  the  finest  land  in  the 
world.  We  proceeded  through  the  woods  to  the 
edge  of  the  bluffs  west  of  Colonel  Coates'  present 
mansion.  Whilst  looking  to  the  west  he  raised 
both  hands  above  his  head  and  exclaimed:  'No 
government  on  earth  can  much  longer  deter  the 
whites  from  entering  that  Territory!  It  is  the 
most  beautiful  country  in  the  whole  world.  In 
ten  years  the  government  will  be  compelled  to  pass 
an  act  opening  that  country  to  white  settlers. 
When   that   event   takes    place    (turning   his    face 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        101 

to  the  east)  you  shall  have  an  immense  city  around 
here.'  The  act  opening  Kansas  was  passed  in  1856, 
just  ten  years  afterwards,  and  now  (in  1878)  the 
immense  city  is  actually  here ! 

"How  did  it  happen  that  Kanzas  Town  had 
such  an  attraction  for  travelers  of  all  professions? 
For  clergy,  traders,  trappers,  and  explorers?  The 
answer  seems  to  be,  the  facilities  of  travel  ren- 
dered by  the  great  rivers  as  far  west  as  the  mouth 
of  the  Kaw.  The  railroads  lately  constructed  fol- 
low the  same  line,  and  like  the  rivers,  they  diverge 
in  many  directions,  making  Kansas  City  a  natural 
center;  and  thus  has  the  prophecy  uttered  by 
Bishop  Barron  thirty-three  years  ago  been  ful- 
filled." 

The  Santa  Fe  trade,  not  the  influx  from  Can- 
ada, was  the  making  of  Kansas  City.  No  one 
realized  this  so  quickly  as  Bishop  Kenrick.  His 
first  visit  to  the  church  at  the  Kaw  found  no  priest 
awaiting  him.  Likely  it  was  not  the  Sunday  for 
the  ministrations  here  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries 
in  the  Territory.  The  Bishop  advertised  his  pres- 
ence, baptized  some  babies  and  older  children  in 
the  log  church,  leaving  the  names  of  those  baptized 
to  be  "entered  in  the  church  registers  at  West- 
port."  There  was  no  church  at  Westport  and  there 
were  no  registers  kept  there.  The  paper  on  which 
the  bishop  wrote  the  names  of  the  newly  baptized 
looks  like  the  flyleaf  torn  from  an  account  book. 
It  is  interesting  to  know  that  this  leaf  is  at  St. 
Mary's  Mission,  and  the  entries  made  in  the  only 
register  of  those  days,  the  one  kept  by  the  Jesuit 
Fathers.  There  never  was  a  church  at  Westport 
until  Father  Donnelly  in  1866,  out  of  his  own 
pocket,  purchased  from  Mr.  Jowel  Bernard  a  site 
with  an  old-fashioned  southern  home.  The  Annual 
Church  Directory  published  by  Lucas  at  Phila- 
delphia was  placing  churches  in  the  St.  Louis  dio- 


102        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

cese  that  Bishop  Kenrick  was  unable  to  locate  in 
this  first  trip  to  the  Kaw  or  indeed  ever  after- 
wards. 

In  two  of  the  published  letters  of  Father  Le 
Roux  there  is  strong  evidence  that  the  good  Father 
could  dream  of  what  was  coming.  But  a  Jesuit 
Father  while  at  the  Kaw  dreamt  of  what  was 
really  taking  place.  He  tells  of  the  daily  and  Sun- 
day services,  how  the  people  attended,  how  they 
gladly  formed  themselves  into  sodalities  and  con- 
fraternities, how  they  became  choir  members  and 
strung  out  in  processions,  how  confessions  and 
communions  grew  weekly  in  numbers.  Where  did 
these  people  come  from  to  justify  or  make  pos- 
sible sodalities  and  confraternities?  The  zeal  of 
this  good  Father  was  beyond  bounds  and  so  were 
his  dreams.  If  the  piety  he  described  ever  existed 
here  it  was  never  witnessed  by  any  other  priest, 
and  must  have  disappeared  with  the  priest  who 
recorded  it.  But  "memory"  is  a  very  peculiar 
thing.  Father  Ponziglione,  a  Jesuit  Father  at 
Osage  Mission,  wrote  in  the  early  nineties  (1893) 
that  he  recalled  a  stately  church  at  Westport  in 
which  he  frequently  said  Mass.  It  must  have  been 
a  fairy  church,  for  it  vanished  away,  leaving  no 
marks  upon  the  real  estate  records  at  the  county 
seat,  and  no  recollections  in  the  memory  of  such 
persons  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dillon,  or  the  early  set- 
tlers of  Westport  surviving  in  the  nineties.  Mrs. 
Dillon  was  the  first  white  girl  born  in  the  vicinity 
of  Westport.  Besides,  if  Lucas  Brothers'  Church 
Directory  is  trustworthy  in  its  date,  Father  Pon- 
ziglione was  in  Cincinnati  in  the  year  1849.  He 
came  to  the  Territory  in  1851.  Father  Donnelly, 
who  was  here  for  six  years  previous  and  rode  to 
Westport  now  and  then,  often  mentioned  the 
graphic  description  of  how  piety  flourished  under 
the  short  administration  of  the  passing  missionary 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        103 

above  referred  to.  "The  Reverend  Father,"  he 
said,  "was  gifted  in  many  ways :  he  was  very  pious 
and  rather  inclined  to  dreams.  I  never  found  any 
traces  of  his  mission  services  here,  and  for  his 
civil  engineering  and  map  drawing,  his  imagination 
and  not  the  scene  before  him,  nor  his  training  in 
that  science,  supplied  the  sketch."  The  Jesuit 
Father  heralded  his  dreams  broadcast  through 
Catholic  papers  in  New  York  and  Philadelphia. 

A  little  while  after  Bishop  Kenrick's  visit,  he 
sent  Bishop  Barron  over  the  diocese  to  confirm  and 
to  report  the  needs  of  the  Church.  It  is  signifi- 
cant that  after  doing  what  he  was  sent  to  do  at 
Kansas  City,  Bishop  Barron  went  to  the  Jesuits 
and  requested  them  to  look  after  Kansas  City. 
Father  Verreydt  without  delay  renewed  his  work 
here.  The  probability  is  the  Jesuits  were  finding 
their  labors  at  home  with  the  Pottawatomie  tribes 
and  the  Indians  at  Kickapoo  too  taxing  for  their 
periodical  visits  to  Kansas  City. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LETTERS   TO   THE   CATHOLIC   BANNER- 
FIRST  MISSIONARY  VENTURES. 

'DITOR  Catholic  Banner:  I  promised  you 
in  a  communication  of  April  last  to  give 
your  readers  a  map  of  the  missions  at- 
tached to  Independence  in  my  letter  of 
appointment.  Your  request  naturally  comes  from 
a  desire  to  know  just  what  was  the  territory  I  had 
to  cover.  It  is  interesting  to  your  readers  and  to 
all  young  priests  to  be  informed  what  was  de- 
manded of  a  priest  in  1845. 

The  Bishop's  letter  of  appointment  read  as 
follows:  "You  are  hereby  appointed  resident  pas- 
tor of  Independence,  Missouri.  From  Independ- 
ence you  will  at  close  intervals  say  Mass  and  hear 
confessions  at  Kaw-town  on  the  Missouri  River 
near  the  Kaw  River.  All  Jackson  County  and 
every  county  immediately  south  of  Jackson  and 
east  of  the  Territory  to  the  north  line  of  Arkansas, 
will  be  your  southwest  limit;  then  eastward;  your 
northern  line  of  labor  will  embrace  Henry  County 
and  every  county  south  of  Henry  to  the  north  line 
of  Arkansas.  While  you  are  on  this  missionary 
tour  be  sure  to  write  the  Jesuit  Fathers  in  charge 
of  the  Pottawatomie  Indians  to  say  Mass  and  hear 
confessions  and  attend  sick  calls  in  Jackson  County." 
Instead,  I  secured  the  services  of  priest  from  the  St. 
Louis  College,  who  frequently  came  up  as  far  as 
Lexington. 

I  give  you  the  boundary  lines  within  which  I 
was  to  labor.  Since  I  am  a  civil  engineer  and 
map  maker  I  could  send  you  a  map  as  you  re- 
quested,  but  reproducing   a  map   on  newspaper 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        105 

pages  is  neither  an  easy  nor  a  good  looking  job. 
My  first  trip  south  and  east  to  the  north  line  of 
Arkansas  was  started  immediately  after  Pentecost, 
1847.  I  left  Independence  with  a  very  thorough 
map  of  the  country  I  was  entering  drawn  up  by  a 
competent  surveyor  and  engineer  in  the  U.  S. 
service  named  Louis  T.  Craddock.  He  was  a  friend 
and  neighbor  who  lived  near  me  in  Independence. 
His  present  was  a  map  of  large  proportions,  most 
complete  in  details,  with  rivers,  streams  and  ele- 
vations, and  marked  with  the  easiest  roads  for 
travel.  As  he  had  on  more  than  one  occasion 
traveled  in  his  official  character  through  my  mis- 
sions and  had  formed  many  acquaintances,  he 
knew  hotel  and  tavern  and  hospitable  farmers 
through  the  territory.  He  was  a  Catholic  and 
made  it  a  point  to  reach  Catholics  and  encourage 
them  in  their  seldom-attended  country. 

The  greatest  difficulties  of  this  first  entrance 
into  my  mission  land  were  removed  by  the  kind- 
ness of  my  friend.  My  compass  stood  me  in  good 
service.  My  observing  neighbors  had  frequently 
told  me  that  my  horsemanship  had  improved  won- 
derfully. The  Jesuit  Fathers  who  never  tired  giv- 
ing me  practical  suggestions  for  missionary  life  ad- 
vised me  shortly  after  my  arrival  here  to  buy  an 
Indian  pony.  It  was  sure-footed,  not  easily 
frightened  by  snake  or  wild  beast,  could  climb  like 
a  goat,  and  endure  heat  and  storm  and  long  fast- 
ing like  a  camel.  Besides  and  best  of  all  the 
Indian  pony  was  native  to  the  soil.  He  seemed  to 
know  everyone  and  everything  on  the  journey — 
like  the  Indian  he  never  noticed  anything  or  any- 
body provided  he  was  let  alone.  His  speed  was 
an  easy  lope,  but  for  a  little  while  at  a  time  he 
would  hasten  his  pace.  He  never  grew  lame  and 
never  showed  fatigue.  In  my  knapsacks,  hanging 
from  the  back  of  the  pony  and  down  his  sides,  I 


106        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

had  three  heavy  Indian  blankets,  a  few  pounds  of 
coffee,  some  sugar  and  hard  army  crackers,  my 
breviaries,  chasuble,  with  all  other  requirements 
for  Mass  and  altar.  I  found  room  for  a  water- 
proof coat  and  two  changes  of  underwear.  I 
started  out  under  a  clear  sky  and  found  a  com- 
fortable bed  that  night.  The  second  day  began 
propitiously,  but  about  noon  a  storm  broke  over 
me.  The  rain  lasted  all  day  and  night.  In  the 
darkness  I  missed  my  bearings  and  soon  discovered 
I  was  off  the  road.  Fortunately  I  had  wandered 
towards  a  stone  formation  and  was  out  of  the  mud. 
With  the  light  made  by  my  flint  and  steel  I  saw  a 
large  stone  ledge  fully  two  feet  high  and  under 
the  circumstances  ideal  for  a  bed.  I  covered  my 
pony  with  one  of  the  blankets  and  the  other  two 
I  used  for  a  soft  cover  over  the  large  rock  and  for 
warmth  and  protection  from  the  rain.  I  slept  well 
and  was  up  and  on  my  journey  early  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  soon  found  my  trail  and  before  nine  o'clock 
came  up  to  a  stream  of  clear  water  fringed  on 
both  sides  by  trees.  Here  I  prepared  my  coffee 
and  ate  my  first  missionary  breakfast.  During  the 
next  few  hours  I  caught  up  with  two  men  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  country  and  many  of  its  peo- 
ple. We  were  in  Cass  County.  My  traveling  com- 
panions were  from  Kentucky  but  were  then  liv- 
ing in  Missouri  and  were  dealers  in  real  estate,  we 
call  it  now — it  was  then  just  buying  and  selling 
farms.  They  kindly  directed  me  to  a  Catholic 
family  living  about  where  Harrisonville  is.  The 
family  were  all  Catholic,  born  in  Ireland,  and  had 
been  two  years  "drifting,"  as  they  said,  from  New 
Orleans  to  their  present  home.  They  were  on  a 
small  farm  and  living  in  a  comfortable  farmhouse. 
They  had  two  neighbors  a  few  miles  south  who 
were  Catholics,  too.  They  begged  me  to  stay  with 
them  until  they  could  bring  their  neighbors,  and 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        107 

then  would  I  be  good  enough  to  say  Mass  and  give 
them  the  benefits  of  the  Sacraments.  I  surely 
would.  I  was  favorably  disappointed  in  finding 
Catholics  so  soon.  Mass  was  said  and  the  Sacra- 
ments approached.  The  terrors  of  the  long  jour- 
ney ahead  of  me  began  to  leave  me. 

My  host  and  his  Catholic  neighbors  had  wan- 
dered considerably  coming  here  and  had  hunted 
far  south  of  their  homes  in  search  of  birds  for 
their  tables.  Fresh  meat  was  out  of  the  question. 
Why,  even  in  Independence,  it  was  pork  dried, 
pork  salted,  week  in  and  week  out.  A  farmer 
would  notify  us  that  he  was  about  to  kill  and 
butcher  a  heifer  or  cow,  and  how  many  pounds 
and  what  parts  of  the  carcass  would  we  buy? 
Fresh  meat  was  purchased  by  the  hotels  at  the 
levee  from  steamboats,  but  after  seven  or  eight 
days  of  river  travel  the  meat  needed  the  immediate 
care  of  ice,  and  ice  formed  here  in  winter,  then 
melted.  During  my  part  of  a  two  days'  stay  I 
feasted  on  prairie  chicken  and  delicious  birds 
peculiar  to  the  country.  My  three  Catholic  friends 
insisted  on  accompanying  me  through  Bates  and 
Vernon  counties  where  they  were  not  only  com- 
panions and  guides,  but  where  they  brought  me  to 
three  Catholic  families  and  succeeded  in  locating 
four  more,  making  in  all  ten  families,  and  with 
their  own  three  families  thirteen  altogether.  I 
performed  the  Divine  Services  twice  in  Bates  and 
twice  in  Vernon  counties.  After  the  return  of  my 
friends  to  their  homes  the  sunlight  seemed  to  de- 
part. I  was  not  lonesome,  for  I  was  a  student  of 
nature.  I  would  dismount  from  my  pony  to  ex- 
amine loess  as  I  saw  it  change  from  stone  com- 
position to  a  black,  productive  soil.  I  had  studied 
rock,  I  carried  with  me  the  geologist's  hammer. 
The  trees  were  interesting  in  themselves.  They 
were   of  hard   bark   and   were   in   some   instances 


108        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

called  iron — an  appropriate  name,  for  the  presence 
of  such  trees  told  of  iron,  lead  and  other  valuable 
deposits.  I  had  no  Catholics  to  engage  my  mind 
and  time,  so  the  Earth,  and  especially  this  part  of 
it,  occupied  me. 

In  Vernon  County  (near  Nevada  of  today)  in 
following  my  friend  Mr.  Craddock's  directions,  I 
found  an  Irishman  named  Donnelly.  His  wife  was 
not  a  Catholic  but  had  been  taking  instructions  in 
the  Catechism.  She  was  instructed  and  well  dis- 
posed, and  so  for  the  first  time  in  my  mission  trip 
I  administered  the  sacrament  of  baptism.  On  the 
expectation  of  finding  more  Catholics  nearby  I  re- 
mained under  the  hospitable  roof  of  my  namesake 
for  three  days.  He  and  I  scoured  the  country 
around  and  brought  back  with  us  a  German  Catho- 
lic named  Latmer  and  a  Kentuckian  named  Hawkes. 
Their  families  were  all  Catnolics  and  were  at 
Mass  on  my  third  day's  stay.  A  John  Fagan 
added  one  more  to  our  audience.  As  fortune  had 
it  there  was  a  public  meeting  in  a  large  square  or 
clearing  near  a  Protestant  church  to  which  every- 
body was  invited.  This  church  was  a  typical 
country  church  of  olden  times  and  faced  the  coun- 
try road.  The  preacher  and  myself  met  the  first 
day  I  was  there  and  became  friendly.  He  told  me 
of  the  coming  meeting  and  invited  me  to  be  present 
and  to  say  something.  I  promised  to  do  so.  The 
object  of  the  meeting  was  to  work  up  a  site  for  a 
coming  town.  The  attendance  filled  the  church. 
Two  of  the  prominent  speakers  failed  to  attend. 
The  preacher  and  myself  were  the  only  orators  on 
hand.  "There  must  be  four  speakers,"  said  the 
preacher.  "You'll  talk  two  times  and  I'll  talk  two 
times.  You  see  we  must  give  the  people  all  we 
promised."  When  three  speeches  were  delivered 
all  was  said  that  could  be  said  regarding  the  ad- 
visability of  starting  a  town  and  how  to  go  about 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        109 

it.  So  when  it  came  my  second  turn  I  told  them 
that  a  real  true  speciman  of  a  Roman  priest  stood 
before  them.  "Look  for  the  horns,  you  won't  dis- 
cover any  hoof.  You'll  see  in  me  a  real  out  and  out 
American  citizen.  Now,"  I  said,  "you  find  the 
Catholic  priest  human  like  yourselves,  and  I'll  pass 
on  to  tell  you  what  I,  a  priest,  and  every  other 
priest  preaches."  I  stopped  after  fully  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour,  but  there  was  a  universal  and 
emphatic  demand  to  "go  on,  go  on."  I  did  so. 
When  I  concluded  the  preacher  said,  "I  wish  our 
friend,  this  good  priest,  would  give  us  a  talk  in 
this  church  tomorrow  afternoon.  Tell  us  about  the 
Pope."  The  crowd  voted  in  favor  of  another 
speech  and  on  the  Pope.  I  felt  that  some  pre- 
judice, at  least,  might  be  removed,  so  I  gave  the 
talk  about  the  Pope.  Those  people  lived  scattered 
around  for  miles,  but  they  were  on  hand  next  day. 
They  gave  me  the  closest  attention  and  a  vote  of 
thanks.  On  my  arrival  at  home  I  found  a  letter 
from  the  preacher  who  told  me  he  had  thought  over 
my  speeches,  had  studied  the  Catechism,  and 
would  like  more  Catholic  literature.  I  sent  him 
the  literature.  One  year  afterwards  he  called  on 
me  and  entered  the  ranks  of  the  church.  He  was 
baptized,  for  he  assured  me  that  preacher  though 
he  was  he  had  never  received  the  sacrament  of 
baptism. 

On  my  third  and  last  trip  on  mission  I  called 
again  to  find  a  new  clergyman  in  charge,  who  in- 
vited me  to  stop  over  on  Sunday  and  take  charge 
of  his  pulpit,  as  he  wanted  to  visit  friends  down 
in  Arkansas.  I  did  so  and  the  people  saw  for  the 
first  time  Holy  Mass  and  heard  another  Catholic 
sermon.     This  time  my  subject  was  the  Mass. 

My  first  tour  followed  the  tier  of  counties  from 
Jackson  in  a  direct  line  to  what  is  now  McDonald 
County.     I  returned  by  the  counties  immediately 


110        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

east.  My  return  was  devoid  of  the  interesting 
features  of  the  trip  south.  The  Catholics  were 
fewer  and  the  scenery  less  diversified.  I  found 
traces  here  and  there  of  the  work  of  the  Lazarist 
Fathers  through  those  parts.  At  four  places  they 
spent  some  days  preaching  to  the  natives.  A  dis- 
tant relative  of  the  Hayden  family  at  the  Barrens 
told  me  that  the  Fathers  were  anything  but  en- 
couraged by  their  efforts  in  the  counties  they 
visited.  I  heard  eight  confessions,  baptized  two 
infants,  prepared  an  aged  sick  man  for  death. 
This  was  the  result  of  my  first  returning  visit.  The 
two  other  missionary  trips  were  almost  devoid  of 
results.  I  saw  few  Indians  on  my  tours,  and  no 
uncivilized  ones. 

But  I  saw  a  wonderful  country,  fertile  and 
rolling.  People  in  search  of  healthful  and  pro- 
ductive localities  will  surely  come  here  and  in  num- 
bers. I  have  often  heard  of  the  wonderful  scenic 
beauties  and  grandeur  of  the  mountain  countries 
along  the  range  of  the  Rockies.  I  doubt  if  there 
is  anything  in  the  far  west  more  beautiful,  more 
picturesque,  than  parts  of  the  Ozark  range  through 
which  I  drove.  The  mountains  of  the  far  West  are 
awe-inspiring,  but  the  Ozark  range  places  before 
you  pictures  unequaled  for  diversity.  The  cascades, 
the  streams  of  clear,  cool  water,  traverse  the  moun- 
tain sides  and  going  down  into  the  valleys  give  a 
vitality  to  the  soil.  I  have  never  seen  even  in  Ire- 
land grass  so  green  and  in  such  abundance.  Like 
Ireland,  the  Ozark  country  has  its  tales  of  valorous 
deeds  of  an  ancient  people  who  fought  every  in- 
vading tribe.  The  Spanish  adventurers  occupied 
for  years  all  that  portion  of  Missouri.  They  were 
not  there  for  health,  nor  for  love  of  Nature's 
charming  scenery.  It  was  not  the  unsurpassed 
fishing  and  hunting  and  trading  with  the  Indians 
that   brought   them    and   held   them   there.      Long 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        111 

years  before  gold  deposits  were  discovered  and  the 
famous  Phillebert  Mine  was  located.  Silver  mines 
were  opened  and  operated  by  the  Spaniards.  Phil- 
lebert was  one  of  a  family  who  were  among  the 
earliest  settlers  of  St.  Louis.  He  left  St.  Louis  to 
kill  wild  animals  and  birds  and  Indians  almost 
immediately  after  his  arrival.  He  had  a  business 
eye  as  well  as  an  adventurous  soul.  He  established 
a'  trading  post  near  the  point  where  the  James 
River  empties  into  the  White  River.  He  was 
adopted  by  the  Delawares  and  went  with  them  into 
the  Ozarks.  From  the  Indians  it  is  supposed 
Phillebert  learned  of  the  mines  called  for  him. 
The  location  of  these  mines  was  held  secret  from 
his  very  family.  He  would  frequently  leave  home 
for  long  intervals  and  always  returned  with  a  large 
quantity  of  silver.  His  silver  is  classified  as  "horn 
silver."*  I  feel  sure  there  is  wealth  in  abundance 
in  the  specimens  of  stone  I  have  seen.  But  the 
stone  I  saw  in  the  neighborhood  of  some  easy 
ascending  grades  (in  Carthage)  will  prove  the 
very  finest  building  material.  It  is  almost  as  white 
as  the  famed  Carrara  marble  in   Italy. 

I  have  already  drawn  too  largely  on  your 
columns  and  on  the  patience  of  your  readers.  My 
three  missionary  journeys  were  not  prolific  of 
much  spiritual  good.  There  was  no  growth  of 
population  from  my  first  to  my  third  visits.  The 
Mexican  War  had  sent  people  out  of  my  south- 
western territory  rather  than  brought  any  increase. 
I  met  General  Kearney  and  his  troops  on  their  way 
to  the  Rio  Grande,  also  Colonel  Donaldson,  my 
friend,  who  led  the  Missouri  regiment.  It  was  a 
great  pleasure  to  me  to  shake  the  hand  of  General 

*Horn  silver  is  the  chloride,  which  when  pure  is  75.3 
per  cent  silver.  It  occurs  in  hornlike  masses,  of  a  grayish 
color,  turning  black  on  exposure  to  light.  It  is  so  soft  it 
can  be  cut  with  a  knife. 


112        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

Shields  on  his  way  to  war.  I  spent  a  night  and  a 
day  in  his  tent  over  two  hundred  miles  south  of 
my  home  at  Independence.  The  general  and  a 
goodly  number  of  his  command  approached  the 
Sacraments  during  my  stay  with  him.  My  third 
and  last  long  southern  mission  ended  in  a  finan- 
cial disaster — I  missed  the  honor  and  felt  the  loss 
of  the  donation  given  by  Mr.  Jabez  Smith  on  the 
occasion  of  his  second  marriage  at  Independence. 
Kansas  City  and  Independence  advanced  in 
population  and  in  importance  as  a  consequence  of 
the  Mexican  War.  Today  there  are  priests  and 
parishes  in  many  places  not  then  on  the  map  in 
southwest  Missouri.  Springfield,  Rolla,  Joplin  and 
Carthage  had  no  existence  in  the  '40s  and  early 
'50s.  Mark  my  prophecy,  a  bishop  will  soon  rule 
all  that  country  and  his  see  will  be  in  Kansas  City. 
As  I  often  said  to  you,  there  will  be  a  bishop  yet 
in  Wyandotte.  There  were  never  any  prophets  in 
our  family;  they  were  always  too  busy  trying  to 
live  in  the  present  and  trying  to  forget  the  past, 
to  give  a  thought  to  what  the  future  might  bring 
forth.  I  may  have  some  more  recollections  for 
the  good  Banner  very  soon. 

Bernard  Donnelly. 

the  drake  constitution. 
Editor  Catholic  Banner: 

Perhaps  we  old-fashioned  missionaries  and  our 
pioneer  flocks  and  neighbors  did  not  make  much 
history.  Well,  we  went  through  some  live  eras  of 
development.  The  state  motto  of  Kansas  covers 
the  history  of  life  in  the  new  West  from  the 
twenties  and  thirties  up  to  the  year  of  Grace,  1879. 
How  proudly  and  truthfully  our  western  neighbors 
describe  life  out  here:  "Per  Aspera  ad  Astra."  In 
every  new  country  people  suffer  for  want  of  life's 
comforts  and  sometimes  life's  necessities.    In  other 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        113 

districts  east  of  the  Mississippi  the  first  settlers 
and  the  builders  of  the  present  civilization  carry 
in  their  systems  the  poison  of  miasma  common  to 
new  countries.  So  do  we — we  grew  thin  and  weak 
and  sallow  from  ague  and  swamp  fever,  and  weak 
and  nervous  from  the  overdosing  of  quinine,  ipecac, 
tincture  of  silver  and  other  medicines  administered 
to  destroy  the  effects  of  the  exhalations  of  the 
swamps  and  new-tossed  earth. 

Life  is  more  than  a  venture  in  a  newly  touched 
country.  On  the  border  line  of  Kansas  and  Mis- 
souri the  air  and  the  soil,  the  insects  and  the  wild 
beasts  and  the  Indians  might  be  endured,  avoided 
or  made  innocuous.  The  new  country  furnished 
hardship  enough.  But  the  civilization  from  Boston 
and  south  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  Line  was  forc- 
ing on  us  the  curse  of  civil  war.  "Slavery  must 
be  abolished,"  cried  Wendell  Phillips  and  Henry 
Ward  Beecher.  "Slavery  shall  not  be  abolished," 
cried  back  Senator  Haynes  and  Jefferson  Davis 
from  south  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  Line.  "We'll 
fight,  and  even  die,  for  our  principles,"  said  both 
North  and  South.  And  for  years  before  the  clash 
of  the  Civil  War  they  did  fight  and  made  battle 
fields  in  Jackson  County  and  the  Kanzas  Territory. 
The  four  years  of  conflict  never  gave  this  county 
a  day's  respite.  Everywhere  else  the  war  closed 
at  the  surrender  of  General  Lee  at  Appomattox. 
Not  so  in  Missouri.  Our  state  was  a  battlefield  for 
the  four  years  of  carnage  between  North  and  South. 
The  soldiers  from  both  sides  returned  to  Missouri 
when  the  Union  troops  were  reviewed  by  President 
Johnson  and  his  cabinet  at  Washington  and  when 
the  army  of  Jefferson  Davis  was  disbanded.  Peace 
came  back  with  the  veterans  of  four  years.  But 
it  was  the  peace  which  meant  that  the  roaring  of 
cannon  had  ceased  and  that  drilled  men  were  not 
marching  against  each  other  in  battle  array.     The 


114        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

rancour  that  brought  on  the  war  had  not  died  out. 
The  boys  of  the  blue  and  the  gray  were  working 
on  their  farms  and  at  their  avocations  again,  but 
the  marplot  was  busy.  Perhaps  he  had  not  fought 
in  the  war  days.  The  Southern  cause  had  been 
beaten  to  defeat  and  surrender.  The  screws  of 
revenge  had  to  be  tightened.  The  political  states- 
men who  had  lost  neither  life  nor  limb,  but  who 
had  grown  rich  and  fallen  in  love  with  power  of 
office,  saw  a  scheme  for  holding  on  to  what  he  had 
acquired  and  adding  to  it.  Missouri  needed  a  new 
constitution.  Judge  Drake  and  many  other  good 
haters  knew  just  how  to  draft  a  constitution  that 
would  give  play  to  their  ambition  and  the  power 
to  humble  their  beaten  ex-Confederate  neighbors 
by  depriving  them  of  the  right  of  franchise.  The 
old  know-nothing  bigotry  would  have  a  chance  to 
injure  a  church,  known  as  Catholic,  but  in  their 
vocabulary  "Romish."  They  soon  drew  up  a  new 
constitution  and  handed  it  to  the  voters  for  adop- 
tion. There  was  little  time  wasted  in  formulating 
into  the  document  all  the  cunning,  hatred  and  in- 
justice necessary  for  their  purpose.  Some  of  the 
most  vicious  and  vindictive  of  the  designers  and 
drafters  of  the  new  constitution  crushing  out  free- 
dom of  thought  even  in  the  right  of  franchise,  were 
foreigners  barely  able  to  speak  and  understand  our 
language,  men  who  rose  up  against  Fatherland  in 
order  to  gain  for  themselves  what  they  were  now 
denying  native  Americans  who  allowed  them  to 
live  when  defeat  drove  them  from  home. 

An  exasperating  scrutiny  and  the  refusal  in 
thousands  of  instances  to  accept  votes  against  the 
adoption,  besides  a  public  disfranchisement  of  loyal 
native  citizens,  made  an  easy  victory  for  the  new 
constitution.  It  was  called  the  Drake  Constitution 
for  the  man  who  inspired  it.  All  professional  men 
were  barred  their  calling  if  they  refused  to  take 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        115 

an  oath  of  loyalty.  Ministers  of  the  Gospel  could 
not  preach  until  they  subscribed  to  the  oath.  A 
citizen  who  had  at  any  time  even  thought  favor- 
ably of  the  dead  cause  of  the  South  was  disfran- 
chised. 

Archbishop  Kenrick  ordered  a  protest  against 
the  oath  and  a  refusal  to  take  it.  Every  priest 
said  his  archbishop  spoke  for  him.  Many  clergy- 
men of  protestant  sects  refused.  The  Catholic 
priest  receives  his  authority  to  preach  from  the 
Divine  Master  through  his  Orders. 

Only  three  or  four  priests  in  Missouri  were 
arrested.  Father  John  Cummings,  the  young  pas- 
tor of  Louisiana,  was  arrested  and  put  in  jail.  It 
is  believed  the  arrest  was  made  by  a  blundering 
deputy  counsellor  in  the  office  of  the  United  States 
Attorney,  Patterson  Dyer,  who  was  absent  in  the 
interests  of  the  Government.  He  was  in  St.  Joseph, 
Missouri,  pleading  a  case.  There  was  no  man  in 
Missouri  more  pained  by  this  arrest  than  Mr.  Pat- 
terson. He  never  so  much  as  thought  of  making 
his  dear  friend  and  fellow  citizen  of  Louisiana  a 
victim  of  the  Drake  Constitution.  He  telegraphed 
an  order  to  release  Father  Cummings  and  hastened 
home  on  the  first  train  to  undo  the  outrage.  But 
Father  Cummings  refused  to  leave  his  cell.  Arch- 
bishop Kenrick  ordered  Father  Keiley  of  St.  Louis 
to  go  to  Louisiana  and  say  to  Father  Cummings  it 
was  his  wish  to  leave  the  jail,  which  he  did.  This 
arrest  was  the  death-knell  of  the  Drake  Oath 
His  Grace  employed  the  best  legal  talent  of  Mis- 
souri, headed  by  Alexander  J.  P.  Garasche,  to  test 
the  constitutionality  of  this  clause.  A  hearing  was 
brought  before  the  Missouri  State  Court.  The  state 
court  of  course  sustained  the  validity  of  the  arrest. 
An  appeal  was  taken  to  the  Supreme  Court  at 
Washington,  where  the  decision  of  the  Missouri 
court  was  reversed  and  the  oath  declared  unconsti- 


116        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

tutional.  This  decision  met  with  universal  approval 
all  over  the  nation.  The  Radicals  (as  the  party  in 
power  in  Missouri  was  called)  were  chagrined, 
yet  many  of  the  more  conservative  among  them 
were  loud  in  approval.  Not  only  lawyers,  doctors 
and  clergy  were  victims  of  this  oath,  but  school 
teachers  and  professors  in  colleges  as  well.  The 
entire  faculty  in  the  Seminary  at  Cape  Girardeau 
and  the  Sisters  of  Loretto  in  charge  of  the  female 
academy  there  were  arrested  and  forced  to  appear 
at  Jackson,  the  county  seat,  where  they  were  de- 
tained for  several  days  at  the  convenience  of  the 
judge.  The  interference  of  the  governor  of  the 
state  quashed  all  proceedings  in  this  instance. 

All  legal  expense  towards  nullifying  the  Drake 
Oath  in  both  lower  and  higher  courts  was  borne  by 
Archbishop  Kenrick.  That  mild,  retiring  and  inof- 
fensive clergyman  belonged  to  a  family  which  had 
in  its  day  a  coat  of  arms  bearing  the  device,  "Noli 
me  tangere,"  in  English  "Don't  touch  me." 

England,  France,  Germany,  Italy  and  ancient 
nations  have  time  and  again  tried  by  law  strategy 
to  interfere  with  the  right  of  the  Church  to  preach 
the  Gospel  of  Christ,  but  like  Drake  and  his  Mis- 
souri Constitution  have  been  foiled.  Its  laws  are 
God-given  and  its  rights  have  the  seal  of  Heaven 
on  them. 

CONCERNING  ARCHBISHOP  KENRICK. 

Editor  Catholic  Banner: 

This  correspondence  will  be  devoted  to  Arch- 
bishop Kenrick.  While  teaching  school  in  Phil- 
adelphia I  called  on  the  Very  Reverend  P.  R.  Ken- 
rick, then  professor  of  Theology  and  Rector  of  the 
diocesan  Seminary.  He  was  a  brother  of  the  Right 
Reverend  Francis  Patrick  Kenrick,  bishop  of  Phil- 
adelphia. He  was  several  years  younger  than  his 
brother.     Young  as  he  was  (he  was  hardly  thirty 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        117 

years  of  age)  he  had  the  measured,  steady  gait  of 
today.  He  looked  fully  five  feet,  ten  inches,  tall, 
was  not  spare  but  athletic  in  build,  and  a  lover  of 
long  walks.  After  the  afternoon  classes  he  left 
the  seminary  for  this  daily  exercise.  Punctual  in 
everything,  he  opened  the  front  door  to  the  second 
at  4  :30  p.  m.  He  always  walked  alone.  Weather 
made  no  break  in  his  daily  routine.  I  heard  from 
one  of  the  professors  that  he  owed  his  health  to 
daily  walks.  It  seems  he  was  very  delicate  the 
last  year  in  the  college  of  Maynooth,  and  after 
his  ordination  he  was  appointed  chaplain  to  a  con- 
vent outside  of  Dublin.  It  was  thought  by  his 
Metropolitan,  Archbishop  Murray,  that  parish 
work  was  too  severe  for  him.  He  had  ample  time 
for  his  chosen  exercise  and  soon  grew  rugged.  He 
was  invited  to  the  Philadelphia  diocese  almost  as 
soon  as  his  brother  became  bishop.  He  was 
immediately  assigned  to  a  professorship  in  the 
seminary  and  in  a  little  while  became  rector.  He 
was  also  Vicar  General.  For  some  months  he  was 
pastor  of  Pittsburgh,  then  recalled  to  the  seminary. 
He  resigned  this  position  and  was  to  go  to  Rome 
to  become  a  Jesuit.  His  traveling  companion  was 
Bishop  Rosatti  of  St.  Louis.  The  bishop  took  a 
fancy  to  the  young  man  and  petitioned  Pope  Gre- 
gory XVI  to  appoint  him  his  coadjutor  in  St.  Louis. 
This  was  done  without  consulting  Father  Kenrick. 
When  he  called  on  the  Pope  what  was  his  sur- 
prise to  learn  that  he  was  to  be  coadjutor  at  St. 
Louis  r.nd  take  charge  of  the  diocese  during  the 
absence  of  B.shop  Rosatti,  who  was  made  Apostolic 
Delegate  to  a  South  American  country.  The  Pope 
informed  Father  Kenrick  that  he  wished  him  to 
accept  the  dignity.  He  and  Bishop  Rosatti  soon  re- 
turned to  America,  where  on  November  30th,  1842, 
in  the  cathedral  of  Philadelphia,  he  was  consecrated 
Bishop    by    the    Right    Reverend    Joseph    Rosatti. 


118        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

Bishop  England  preached  at  the  consecration.  By 
a  singular  coincidence  a  St.  Louis  priest  named 
Lafavre  was  consecrated  in  the  same  cathedral  a 
day  or  two  before  for  Detroit.  Bishop  Lafavre  for 
some  years  attended  all  northeastern  Missouri  and 
Illinois  along  the  Mississippi  River.  Bishop  Ken- 
rick  left  for  his  western  home  a  few  days  after  his 
consecration.  He  traveled  through  Pennsylvania 
as  far  as  Pittsburgh.  He  took  a  boat  on  the  Ohio 
River.  He  had  to  change  steamers  at  Cincinnati. 
A  delay  of  two  days  in  Cincinnati  detained  him  in 
Bishop  Purcell's  residence,  where  I  did  myself  the 
honor  of  calling  on  him.  I  was  then  teaching 
school  at  Lancaster.  He  said  he  remembered  my 
call  on  him  in  Philadelphia. 

Although  it  was  in  my  mind  to  apply  for  a 
place  in  the  Barrens  Seminary,  I  did  not  do  so  for 
Bishop  Purcell  was  present  and  I  had  spoken  to 
him  some  time  before  in  regard  to  my  vocation  to 
the  priesthood.  He  encouraged  me  and  talked  as 
if  he  wished  to  adopt  me  into  the  Cincinnati  dio- 
cese. I  did  not  repeat  my  call  on  the  new  bishop 
and  did  not  see  him  again  until  he  received  me 
into  the  St.  Louis  diocese.  I  preferred  St.  Louis 
because  I  wished  to  work  among  the  Indians.  There 
were  few,  if  any,  Indians  left  in  Ohio,  and  I  knew 
that  the  extensive  diocese  of  St.  Louis  had  many 
tribes,  some  of  them  under  the  care  of  the  Jesuit 
Fathers.  I  was  at  the  Barrens  Seminary  for  some 
time  and  then  transferred  to  the  diocesan  seminary 
at  St.  Louis,  under  the  learned  Father  Panquin,  a 
Lazarist  Father.  Father  Panquin  was  a  man  of 
solid  piety  and  as  a  theologian  and  general  scholar 
was  known  from  St.  Louis  to  the  Atlantic. 

I  was  ordained  in  St.  Louis  Cathedral  in  1845. 
My  theological  course  was  not  very  long,  but  was 
thorough,  thanks  to  my  able  professor.  Bishop 
Kenrick  did  not  put  aside  his  theological  professor- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        119 

ship  when  he  became  head  of  a  diocese,  for  he 
visited  his  seminary  two  and  sometimes  three  times 
a  week.  He  listened  attentively  to  the  learned  dis- 
courses of  Father  Panquin  and  wound  up  the  hour 
with  questions  and  puzzles.  Before  the  ordination 
of  our  class  the  bishop  spent  two  full  days  putting 
us  through  a  thorough  sifting  on  philosophy  and 
theology  as  well  as  other  branches  of  study.  His 
Latin  was  Ciceronian  and  he  confined  his  queries 
to  that  tongue.  Father  Panquin  frequently  lauded 
the  bishop's  classical  Latin. 

Since  the  Seminary  days  I  have  not  had  the 
pleasure  and  benefit  of  Archbishop  Kenrick's  com- 
pany as  often  as  I  would  wish.  But  I  know  him 
well  by  his  goodness  and  his  standing  in  the  epis- 
copacy of  America.  He  is  first  among  the  fore- 
most. What  I  have  to  say  of  my  archbishop  is  in 
accord  with  what  every  priest  in  his  diocese  says 
and  knows.  He  is  not  only  a  scholar  of  the  highest 
rank  in  priestly  lore,  but  he  is  a  scientist  of  ac- 
knowledged standing.  His  translation  from  the 
French  of  a  learned  work  on  Science  and  the  Bible, 
and  his  frequent  contributions  to  scientific  jour- 
nals are  acknowledged  evidences  that  he  is  a 
scientist.  "A  priest  should  have  a  knowledge  of 
French  and  German,"  he  used  to  tell  the  stu- 
dents. "Our  tongue  has  a  wide  range,  but  the 
great  questions  engaging  the  thinking  minds  of 
our  day  are  only  slightly  touched  by  English  au- 
thors. In  Germany  and  France  you  find  a  classi- 
fication of  minds.  They  have  the  poets,  the  his- 
torians, the  students  of  statecraft,  and  the  supere- 
minent  philosophers  and  theologians.  The  reading 
public  patronizes  them  and  they  are  not  forced  to 
struggle  for  an  existence.  In  society  and  the 
financial  world  men  are  proud  to  refer  to  their 
acquaintance  with  the  two  great  European  lan- 
guages.    The  priest  is  by  every  requirement  a  stu- 


120        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

dent.  He  should  be  in  close  association  with  the 
leaders  of  thought.  Remember  the  German  and 
French  writers  are  tireless  and  thorough.  They 
do  not  put  together  epitomes — they  write  exhaus- 
tive dissertations."  This  advice  was  as  regular  as 
his  visits  to  the  seminarians.  His  library  is  large 
and  select. 

In  appearance  our  Archbishop  has  a  natural 
dignity  that  attracts  attention.  A  brilliant  young 
priest  named  John  Ireland,  now  Bishop  of  St.  Paul, 
in  a  series  of  articles  appearing  in  a  Chicago  news- 
paper under  the  title  of  "Men  and  Things  I  saw 
and  heard  at  the  Vatican  Council,"  says  of  Arch- 
bishop Kenrick:  "While  a  chaplain  in  the  army 
during  the  Civil  War  I  was  the  bearer  of  some 
military  orders  that  had  to  be  handed  to  a  com- 
manding officer  with  headquarters  at  St.  Louis. 
While  in  that  city  I  visited  Archbishop  Kenrick.  I 
had  often  heard  of  His  Grace,  but  now  for  the 
first  time  I  saw  him.  He  was  my  Metropolitan, 
but  I  was  a  young  priest  in  St.  Paul  and  from  my 
ordination  was  very  busy  as  assistant  in  our  Cathe- 
dral. He  impressed  me  very  highly.  The  next 
time  I  met  him  was  in  Rome  during  the  Vatican 
Council.  I  was  still  a  priest.  I  called  on  His 
Grace  at  his  lodgings  and  asked  if  I  might  oc- 
casionally escort  him  when  he  took  his  daily  walk 
on  the  Appian  Way.  With  a  cheerful  smile  he 
said,  "Yes,  I  shall  be  delighted.  This  walk  is  my 
only  exercise  here.  There  will  be  no  Session  of 
the  Council  tomorrow  afternoon.  Let  us  meet  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon."  I  had  heard  of 
his  methodical  habits  as  to  time  and  I  was  at  the 
starting  place  to  the  second — so  was  His  Grace. 
When  we  reached  the  famed  promenade,  we  found 
a  large  number  of  ecclesiastics  from  minutantis 
or  attachees  of  the  Vatican  to  Bishops,  Arch- 
bishops and  Cardinals.     We  had  scarcely  joined 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        121 

the  array  when  Cardinal  D'Angelis,  the  presiding 
member  of  the  Vatican  Council,  approached.     His 
eyes   fell  on  Archbishop   Kenrick   and  he  left  his 
companion  and  moved  to  the  Archbishop,  whom  he 
shook  by  the  hand  and  addressed  in  friendly  terms, 
as  if  they  were  old  friends.     This  was  a  happy 
surprise  to  me  and  I  am  sure  to  the  others  who  saw 
the  exchange  of  greetings  and  who  recognized  the 
participants.     The  Archbishop  introduced  me  to 
the  Cardinal.     The  Cardinal  was  the  leader  of  the 
Infallibilists  and  His  Grace  of  St.  Louis  led  the 
Inopportunists,  and  had  up  to  that  moment  on  two 
ocassions    mounted    the    tribune    in    the    Council 
Chamber  to  reply  to  the  arguments  of  the  great 
majority  demanding  the  Decree  of  Papal  Infalli- 
bility.    When  the  Archbishop  and  I  resumed  our 
walk,  His  Grace  immediately  took  up  the  descrip- 
tion he  had  been  giving  of  Rome  when  he  first  saw 
it  in  the  early  summer  of  1842.     The  meeting  of 
the  Cardinal  and  himself  evidently  did  not  weigh 
on  my  Metropolitan,  but  it  did  on  me.     During  the 
two  hours'  walk  we  discussed  many  subjects,  but 
not  Papal  Infallibility.     After  this  first  walk  as 
well  as  after  the  others,  acquaintances  would  say 
to  me,  "Who  was  the  distinguished  looking  digni- 
tary with  whom  you  were  walking?"    Others  saw 
charm  of  manner,  dignity  of  bearing,  and  an  in- 
tellectual face  just  as  I  had." 

His  dignity  was  natural — it  was  as  much  a 
part  of  himself  as  his  great  intellect,  as  his  genial 
and  even  disposition.  In  his  study  he  met  his 
priests  with  outstretched  hand  and  a  "God  bless 
you"  from  his  lips  and  heart.  The  St.  Louis  clergy 
invariably  fall  on  their  knees  as  they  approach  and 
after  a  blessing  kiss  his  ring.  His  first  and  usual 
question  follows,  "How  is  your  health?"  Then, 
"Take  great  care  of  your  health,  for  it  is  the  great- 
est asset  a  priest  has-"    Then  a  momentary  silence, 


122        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

or  a  reference  to  the  weather.  The  priest  broaches 
his  business.  The  archbishop  counsels  or  recom- 
mends, or  if  he  sees  so,  advises  adversely.  More 
good  wisnes  follow  and  the  priest  asks  another 
blessing,  confident  that  His  Grace  has  advised 
wisely.  Gossip,  politics,  tales  about  priests  or  the 
diocese  are  never  entered  into  by  the  archbishop, 
and  should  the  priest  offer  such  subjects  the  ex- 
pression on  the  archbishop's  face  and  a  forbidding 
look  would  mean  that  the  interview  was  over.  No 
reprimand  in  words.  A  witticism  in  the  natural 
trend  of  the  conversation  would  be  graciously  ac- 
knowledged and  fonowed  by  some  amusing  remark 
by  His  Grace.  He  enjoys  a  pun  and  shows  approval 
at  any  witty  scintillation  by  a  smile  or  quiet  laugh. 
His  modulated  tones  are  easily  heard.  Loud  lan- 
guage or  high-toned  singing  are  grating  to  his  ear. 
His  singing  on  the  Altar  is  sweet  and  correct  with 
the  notes  of  the  rubrics.  When  visiting  a  priest 
for  confirmation,  cornerstone  laying,  or  church 
blessing,  he  strives  to  save  all  unnecessary  atten- 
tion and  begs  to  be  allowed  to  feel  at  home  and 
to  put  up  with  the  ordinary  everyday  run  of  things. 
His  visits  always  leave  happy  recollections.  He 
never  departs  without  thanking  the  domestics  for 
their  kindness. 

He  must  be  slow  to  chide,  for  I  on  one  occa- 
sion seemed  an  offender.  When  an  act  of  direct 
disregard  of  obedience  was  telegraphed  the  Mis- 
souri Republican,  I  know  he  read  the  printed  false- 
hood and  quietly  awaited  my  statement.  The  mis- 
representation referred  to  was  consequent  to  the 
order  of  the  Archbishop  for  every  priest  to  read 
to  his  congregation  on  a  certain  Sunday  a  con- 
demnation, and  a  refusal  to  obey  the  Drake  Consti- 
tution commanding  ministers  of  the  Gospel  to  take 
an  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  state  government  of 
Missouri  and  not  dare  preach  until  the  oath  was 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        123 

taken   and  signed.     This   order   was   a   claim   that 
the  right  to  preach  the  Gospel  came  from  the  state. 
The  pagan  enactment  of  old  was   resurrected.      I 
read  the  archbishop's  letter  and  entered  my  pro- 
test in  clear,  strong  terms.   My  closing  words  were : 
"When   the   united   sentiment   of   condemnation   of 
the  state's  claims  and  the  state's  interference  with 
our  God-given  authority  and  commission  to  preach 
the   Gospel   reaches  the   capital   at   Jefferson   City 
the  bigots  will  weaken  and  deny  they  meant  what 
they  enjoined.     The  papers  tell  us  that  one  of  the 
originators  of  this  anti-Christian  demand  is  already 
weakening  and  said,  "If  they  persist  in  refusing  to 
obey,  we  may  compromise  and  allow  the  preachers 
and  priests  to  lecture  on   the   Bible."     In   one   of 
our  pews  sat  a  disreputable  man  who  a  few  days 
before  was  arrested  by  our  Mayor  during  a  sword 
practice  for  a  duel  with  one  of  our  citizens.     Be- 
sides being  a  wild-eyed,  quarrelsome  man,  he  spoke 
on     frequent     occasions     shockingly     disrespectful 
things  about  religion.     He  claimed  he  had  been  a 
Catholic,  but  long  since  left  the  Church.     In  the 
Catholic  Church  at  Jefferson  City  he  interrupted 
the  priest  in  the  pulpit  and  broke  out  into  a  blas- 
phemous harangue  against  the  Pope,  bishops  and 
priests.      His   guiding   evil    spirit   led   him   to   my 
church  this  morning.     He  surely  saw  in  the  news- 
papers that  the  archbishop's  letter  would  be  read 
and  the  new  law  defied.     He  had  now  and  then 
dabbled  in  newspaper  work.     Here  was  a  chance 
to  lie  against  a  priest  and  an  opportunity  to  earn 
a  few  dollars  as  correspondent.     The  story  he  sent 
the  St.  Louis  paper  was  that  Father  Donnelly  said 
he    would    obey    the    constitution    and    instead    of 
preaching  would  for  the  future  lecture  on  the  Gos- 
pel.    All   he   telegraphed   filled   a   column    on   the 
front  page   of  the   St.   Louis   Republican.      I   had 
heard  tne  archbishop  say  he  rarely  read  more  than 


124       Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

the  headlines  in  a  paper.  The  interesting  story 
about  me  likely  led  him  to  read  from  beginning  to 
end.  I  only  surmise,  for  I  never  heard  him  refer 
to  the  matter.  But  several  of  my  clerical  friends 
became  solicitous  about  me  and  sent  me  telegrams 
of  doubt,  denunciation,  and  fear  as  to  my  certain 
fate.  The  St.  Louis  dailies  did  not  reach  here  then 
until  late  in  the  afternoon.  I  hastened  to  purchase 
the  Republican  of  that  morning  and  when  I  read 
it  I  sent  a  telegram  to  my  archbishop  vigorously 
denying  the  statements  and  regretting  that  I  was 
an  innocent  occasion  of  grief  and  chagrin  to  him. 
I  also  sent  a  long  message  by  wire  to  the  Repub- 
lican, which  it  published  on  Tuesday  morning.  I 
soon  learned  who  the  correspondent  was  and  lost 
not  a  moment  in  trying  to  meet  him.  But,  coward 
and  liar  that  he  was,  he  left  the  city  early  Monday 
for  parts  unknown. 

My  second  untoward  venture  had  a  business 
intent.  It  was  backed  by  a  desire  to  save  the  arch- 
bishop from  the  bungling  of  an  inexperienced  man 
in  whom  his  Grace  had  confidence.  For  several 
years  he  was  in  the  employ  of  the  archbishop  as 
his  superintendent  in  the  construction  of  the  many 
buildings  the  archbishop  was  erecting  on  vacant 
diocesan  property.  It  was  in  1869  and  His  Grace 
was  preparing  to  attend  the  Vatican  Council  in 
Rome.  He  made  it  known  that  during  his  absence 
this  builder  would  represent  him  as  his  business 
agent  and  would  have  charge  of  the  sale  of  many 
tracts  of  land  in  the  new  parts  of  the  city.  The 
Celini  estate  left  by  a  Father  Celini  to  be  disposed 
of  after  a  certain  time  and  the  proceeas  used  for 
the  benefit  of  keeping  old  and  decrepit  priests  of 
the  archdiocese  of  St.  Louis,  was  to  be  put  on  the 
market.  Here  was  a  matter  that  concerned  the 
priesthood  of  all  Missouri — their  property  was  in 
the  hands  of  this  lay  agent.     Like  Shakespeare's 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        125 

Caesar  he  had  grown  great,  and  his  meat  was  the 
archbishop's   patronage.      At   a   called   meeting   in 
the  rectory  of  a  St.  Louis  priest,  diocesan  clergy 
from  city  and  country  missions  drew  up  a  mild  and 
reverential  protest  against  this  appointee  handling 
as   agent  the   bequest   of  the   St.   Louis   priest   to 
priests.    If  His  Grace  insisted  on  selling  this  grant, 
there  were   priests   in   the   archdiocese   who   could 
handle  the  sale  more  judiciously  than  he  and  would 
by  their  management  bring  better  financial  results. 
The  paper  was  signed  by  all  present.     The  names 
they  selected  as  worthy  and  competent  agents  were 
among  the  senior  and  experienced  priests.     They 
were:    Rev.  William  Wheeler,  Rev.  Patrick  O'Brien 
and  Rev.  Bernard  Donnelly.     These  reverend  gen- 
tlemen were  a  committee  to  hand  the  protest  to  His 
Grace.     That  afternoon  they  waited  on  the  Arch- 
bishop and  read  the  document  to  him.     Each  one 
in  turn  said  a  few  words,  laying  stress  on  what 
they   called   the   ignorance   of   this   party   on   real 
estate  values.     His  Grace  listened  with  utmost  at- 
tention.    When   we  had   finished   a   heavy   silence 
followed.    It  seemed,  but  really  was  not,  long  when 
he  asked  each  one  of  us,  "Are  you  through,  Rev- 
erend Father?"    Our  reply  was,  "Yes."   Then  open- 
ing the  door  of  his  study  he  said,  "Good  day,  gen- 
tlemen."    The  Celini  estate  was  sold.     I  learn,  for 
I   was  not  present,   that  the   Vicar-General,   Very 
Rev.   P.   J.   Ryan,    at   the   annual   meeting   of   the 
Priests'  Purgatorial  Society  of  the  Archdiocese  in 
the  Immaculate  Conception  Church,  St.  Louis,  No- 
vember, 1870,  called  on  the  priests  present  to  start 
a  mutual   aid   society  for   old   and   infirm   priests. 
To  the  question  of  Father  P.  O'Brien,  the  Vicar- 
General  replied  there  were  no  funds  in  the  arch- 
diocese for  needy  priests.     I  have  at  my  elbow  a 
copy  of  the  Acts  and  Decrees  of  the  St.  Louis  Synod 
held   in    1852.     There   the   fund   is   mentioned.      I 


126        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

knew  Father  Celini  and  heard  him  state  that  he 
had  put  aside  legally  a  tract  of  land  in  St.  Louis 
for  poor  priests. 

No  wingless  angels  in  human  shape  swing  in- 
cense around  Archbishop  Kenrick.  A  glance  from 
his  soul-penetrating  eyes  would  still  the  flatterer, 
and  words  of  reproof  would  paralyze  the  tale 
bearer.  No  coterie  of  the  self-seeking  kind  could 
endure  in  this  diocese.  His  selections  for  honors 
always  have  been  men  of  brains  and  good  work. 
"Take  him  for  all  in  all,  I  shall  not  look  upon  his 
like  again." 

During  the  four  years  of  the  Civil  War,  Arch- 
bishop Kenrick  never  crossed  the  lines  of  his  own 
diocese.  When  his  brother,  Archbishop  Francis 
Patrick  Kenrick  of  Baltimore,  died  suddenly  in 
July,  1863,  he  did  not  attend  the  funeral.  No 
provincial  assembly  of  the  bishops  of  the  Province 
was  held,  although  one  was  due  but  recalled.  Pro- 
vincial synods  or  councils  were  regular  every  few 
years.  His  Grace  carried  out  all  the  details  of  the 
beautiful  ceremonial  of  Holy  Week.  He  pontifi- 
cated on  Holy  Thursday  and  Good  Friday,  and 
invariably  preached  on  both  days.  Pastors  and 
assistants  of  all  the  city  churches  attended  in  the 
Sanctuary.  After  the  Easter  of  1861  His  Grace 
never  appeared  in  the  Sanctuary  during  the  period 
of  war  except  to  say  a  low  or  early  Mass,  and  to 
confirm  and  ordain.  All  during  the  conflict  of 
arms  he  practiced  prudence  in  word  and  action. 
On  one  occasion,  a  student  of  theology  belonging 
to  St.  Louis,  notified  His  Grace  that  he  had  been 
drafted  into  the  army,  and  begged  advice.  Arch- 
bishop Kenrick's  reply  was  as  follows: 

"Dear  Sir:  Prudence  forbids  me  to  do  more 
than  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  letter. 

Yours  truly, 

P.  R.  Kenrick." 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        127 

Priests  imperceptibly  pattern  themselves  after 
their  bishop.  The  St.  Louis  clergy  are  studious, 
hardworking  and  pious.  Their  reputation  for  these 
qualities  is  recognized  the  country  over.  It  is  an 
honor  to  belong  to  Archbishop  Kenrick's  diocese. 

B.  Donnelly. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

FATHER  DONNELLY  AND   HIS  BROTHER 

PRIESTS. 


fi 


'ATHER  DONNELLY  lived  so  far  away 
from  his  brother  priests  and  kept  himself 
so  busy  at  Independence,  Kansas  City,  and 
his  missions,  that  he  seldom  found  time  to 
visit  them.  Even  in  his  home  town  he  rarely 
called  on  anyone  except  for  business  purposes.  His 
well-selected  library  grew  dearer  as  he  grew  older. 
His  Greek  and  Latin  books  were  ever  at  his  side. 
He  read  them,  he  translated  them  day  after  day. 
He  purchased  every  new  work  on  science  and  his- 
tory. Murray's  English  Grammar  was  well  thumbed 
and  frequently  brought  into  requisition  while  enter- 
taining a  visitor.  His  writing  and  correspondence 
were  done  after  the  supper  meal  was  over.  The 
light  by  which  he  wrote  was  a  small  sperm  candle 
held  in  the  mouth  of  a  soda  water  bottle.  He  wrote 
slowly,  every  little  while  taking  up  the  manuscript 
and  looking  at  it  to  find  if  the  "t"  was  crossed  and 
the  "i"  dotted,  and  the  word  spelled  correctly. 
Then  he  had  a  habit  quite  common  in  his  day  of 
leaving  the  letter  or  writing  unfinished,  to  be  con- 
tinued the  next  night.  As  he  closed  his  writing 
he  would  draw  a  line  under  it  and  put  a  new  date 
on  the  next  page.  Some  of  his  letters  run  over 
five  or  six  days,  which  meant  five  or  six  dates. 

The  school-room  and  the  desk  had  the  effect 
of  making  Father  Donnelly  in  after  life  at  times  a 
recluse  in  the  sense  that  he  rarely  left  his  home 
or  city.  When  some  strenuous  effort  engaged  him 
for  a  lengthy  period,  such  as  collecting  for  church, 
hospital,  and  other  edifices,  or  some  wear  and  tear 
like  the  Westport  battle  and  its  consequent  work 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        129 

among  the  sick,  wounded  or  dead,  occupied  his 
time  and  attention,  he  sought  relief  and  relaxation 
by  retiring  to  his  little  home  and  going  forth  only 
at  the  call  of  business  or  duty.  His  habits  were 
well  fixed  before  he  became  a  priest.  He  enjoyed 
company  and  could  indulge  in  joke  and  repartee 
and  above  all  was  ready  in  argument  when  discus- 
sion arose.  All  such  pleasant  opportunities  had 
to  come  to  him,  for  his  visits  were  sudden  and 
short.  If  his  predecessors,  the  missionary  Jesuits, 
had  ever  gone  over  his  territory,  they  went  in 
turns,  one  man  this  time,  another  the  next.  Strong 
as  he  was  physically  he  needed  and  took  occasion- 
ally a  long  rest.  When  rest  and  quiet  were  over 
he  saw  many  things  to  do.  His  clerical  friends 
were  miles  away.  He  no  doubt  yearned  for  con- 
genial company  and  he  knew  that  could  be  found 
only  when  priests  came  together.  The  coming  to- 
gether of  priests  strengthens  them  all,  their  ex- 
ample is  effective,  and  their  interchange  of  senti- 
ments and  experiences  helpful  and  encouraging. 
The  passing  missionary  from  some  monastery  or 
religious  house,  and  a  few  priests  of  the  diocesan 
order  were  all  who  could  afford  to  come  to  Kanzas 
or  Independence.  Father  Donnelly  was  as  little 
able  to  defray  traveling  expenses  as  they  were. 

The  missionary  waiting  for  passage  on  a  north- 
bound boat  would  drop  in  on  him  at  Independence 
or  Kanzas.  At  Independence  he  would  share  his 
confined  quarters  with  his  guest  and  in  the  '40s 
and  early  '50s  he  brought  the  visitor  at  Kanzas 
to  the  commodious  and  hospitable  home  of  the 
Chouteau  family.  It  should  be  mentioned  that 
many  of  those  chance  guests  were  so  inured  to  the 
hardships  of  their  lives  on  the  frontier  that  they 
slept  by  choice  on  the  hard  floor,  being  so  unac- 
customed to  the  luxury  of  a  bed  that  it  afforded 
them  only  a  restless  night. 


130        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

During  all  this  time  Father  Donnelly  was  at 
Independence,  at  Kanzas,  or  on  his  annual  two  or 
three  months'  journeying  to  the  Ozarks.  When 
Kansas  City  assumed  metropolitan  proportions, 
priests  usually  found  quarters  at  the  local  hotels, 
and  during  their  stay  would  rarely  forget  to  pay 
their  respects  to  the  pioneer  Father  Donnelly. 
Every  caller  went  away  impressed  with  his  adapt- 
ability. He  could  bandy  jokes  and  pleasantries 
with  the  most  waggish;  he  could  sing  a  comic  song 
with  the  visitor  who  would  display  his  acquaintance 
with  and  the  rendition  of  an  Irish  ballad  from 
Moore  or  some  well-known  maker  of  rhymes.  If 
the  caller  offered  a  challenge  to  a  philosophical  or 
theological  discussion,  Father  Donnelly  hurried  to 
pick  up  the  gauntlet. 

Busy  Father  Donnelly  feared  to  leave  his  home 
lest  the  call  to  some  duty  would  find  him  absent. 
"A  priest  is  a  soldier  of  the  Lord  and  should  for- 
ever be  at  his  post,"  he  would  say.  Although  slow 
to  give  account  of  his  way  or  ways  of  doing  things, 
or  of  his  treatment  of  others,  more  than  once  in 
letter  or  by  word  of  mouth,  he  would  remark:  "I 
cannot  be  happy  with  assistants  because  they  are 
forever  on  the  go ;  they  don't  try  to  be  at  home  in 
their  rooms."  Father  Kennedy  was  his  closest 
neighbor.  They  had  the  same  ideas  of  clerical 
propriety.  They  both  more  than  once  tried  but 
failed  to  bring  to  task  the  "guerilla  clerics  who 
were  ever  seeking  after  the  goods  of  other  parishes, 
if  not  the  good."  Those  men  he  was  free  to  call 
"marauders  who  wear  sanctimonious  faces  and 
shake  their  heads  with  piteous  terms  of  disap- 
proval of  other  priests'  endeavors."  In  sickness, 
in  death,  Father  Donnelly  was  first  at  the  bedside 
of  brother  priests.  His  purse  was  open  to  the  wan- 
dering and  destitute  clergy.  Father  Donnelly  was 
a  priest  among  priests.     His  high  and  holy  calling 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        131 

he  brought  to  the  attention  of  priest  and  laity  alike. 
A  judge  (Judge  Latshaw)  of  high  standing,  who 
in  his  childhood  days  lived  near  Father  Donnelly, 
said  in  a  speech  referring  to  early  settlers:  "I 
lived  as  boy  and  young  man  near  Father  Donnelly's 
home.  I  saw  him  several  times  each  day,  but  I 
can  never  recall  his  going  in  or  out  of  his  home, 
or  moving  from  the  church  back  three  blocks  to  the 
graveyard,  that  he  did  not  wear  on  his  head  the 
three-cornered  cap  and  his  long  robe  or  cassock. 
He  was  always  a  priest!"  This  is  no  small  com- 
pliment, and  is  an  evidence  that  the  man  who  spoke 
so  frequently  and  so  highly  of  the  priesthood  was 
glad  to  display  his  sacred  regalia.  It  was  only  to 
see  Father  Donnelly  daily  to  know  that  he  was 
first  and  always  a  priest.  While  his  life  brought 
others  to  a  high  appreciation  of  his  vocation,  he 
constantly  lauded  brother  priests  who  were  true 
to  all  priestly,  gentlemanly  and  scholarly  require- 
ments. 

Father  Donnelly  was  a  manly  priest — he 
would  have  been  as  manly  in  any  other  calling.  He 
was  too  big  mentally  and  in  generosity  of  heart 
to  be  jealous  or  small  in  the  estimates  he  made  of 
others.  He  saw  men  who  did  little  in  the  priest- 
hood or  for  the  priesthood  advanced  to  high  posi- 
tions. He  was  quick  to  point  out  why  each  one 
went  up  higher.  He  even  searched  for  reasons  for 
some  promotions.  His  charity  was  bountiful  and 
yet  his  honesty  was  as  great  as  his  charity,  and  his 
boldness  of  expression  was  as  great  as  either.  It 
was  generally  believed  by  his  friends  that  his  last 
years  would  be  rewarded  with  some  special  recogni- 
tion. Some  admirers  among  the  clergy  petitioned 
his  Grace  in  St.  Louis  to  use  his  good  offices  with 
Rome  to  make  Father  Donnelly  Monsignor,  then, 
and  for  many  years  afterwards,  a  dignity  unknown 
in    America.      His    Grace    replied   by    saying   that 


132        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

there  was  no  honor  too  high  for  Father  Donnelly 
and  that  he  would  bear  in  mind  their  request. 
Father  Donnelly  learned  what  the  priests  had  done 
and  wrote  them  thanking  each  one  for  his  kind  in- 
tentions but  finding  fault  with  them  for  writing 
the  letter.  He  also  wrote  a  letter  to  Archbishop 
Kenrick  saying  that  he  had  reached  the  highest 
honor  for  which  he  was  ambitious — he  was  Father 
Donnelly  and  wanted  to  rest  with  that. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
HISTORY  OF  THE  ORIGINAL  CHURCH  SITE. 


fi 


•ATHER  BENEDICT  LE  ROUX,  the  first 
resident  pastor,  purchased  in  1839  forty 
acres  from  Pierre  La  Liberte  for  the  sum 
of  six  dollars.  He  deeded  ten  acres  of  this 
to  Bishop  Rosatti  for  a  consideration  in  hand  of 
two  dollars.  On  the  ten  acres,  when  deeded  to  the 
Bishop,  were  a  log  church  and  a  log  sitting  place 
for  a  missionary  priest.  It  was  entirely  too  small 
for  a  residence.  There  were  two  little  rooms,  one 
designed  for  a  kitchen,  the  other  just  big  enough 
for  a  narrow  couch  and  a  chair  or  two.  The 
church  was  dismantled  when  the  city  laid  out 
Pennsylvania  Avenue  and  Eleventh  Street.  The 
church  was  at  the  intersection  of  the  two  streets. 
The  log  hut  was  sold  with  other  parts  of  the  ori- 
ginal purchase  to  help  pay  for  the  new  Cathedral. 
$10,000.00  was  the  money  paid  for  the  lot  on 
which  the  hut  rested.  The  Cathedral  cost  over 
$100,000.  The  cathedral  of  Buffalo,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  churches  in  the  United  States,  was 
completed  by  Bishop  Timon  in  the  '50s  for  $150,000. 
Material  and  labor  were  much  lower  when  the 
Buffalo  cathedral  was  built.  To  meet  the  cost 
of  Kansas  City's  cathedral  it  was  necessary  to  sell 
much  of  the  ten  acres. 

Father  Donnelly  sold  that  portion  of  the  plot 
facing  west  on  Washington,  north  on  Eleventh  and 
south  on  Twelfth  Streets  half  way  to  Broadway, 
to  build  or  complete  the  new  St.  Joseph's  Home 
for  Female  Orphans.  The  price  it  brought  was 
$11,200.00.  When  streets  and  sidewalks  were  run 
through  the  original  ten  acress  there  were  left 
about  three  blocks,  with  about  120  feet  over,  ly- 


134        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

ing  west  of  the  west  line  of  Jefferson  Street.  The 
cathedral  and  some  of  the  unsold  property  facing 
on  Broadway  and  the  portion  facing  on  Washing- 
ton, sold  by  Father  Donnelly  (of  course  with  the 
consent  of  the  archbishop) ,  is  the  east  extreme. 
Father  Donnelly,  about  the  time  he  resigned  his 
church,  opened  and  graded  Jefferson  Street  from 
11th  to  12th  Streets.  The  block  west  of  Washing- 
ton Avenue  was  used  by  the  Sisters  of  St.  Joseph 
and  was  the  site  of  St.  Teresa's  Academy.  From 
Pennsylvania  Avenue  on  the  west,  to  Jefferson 
Street,  was  the  graveyard.  When  Father  Don- 
nelly opened  Mount  St.  Mary's  Cemetery  burials 
ceased  in  the  old  place.  Many  of  the  dead  were 
transferred  to  the  new  grounds.  A  number  of  graves 
remained  untouched  until  Father  Doherty,  Father 
Donnelly's  successor,  had  them  all  transferred  to 
their  new  home  in  Mount  St.  Mary's. 

Concerning  the  cemetery  Father  Donnelly  wrote 
to  the  Catholic  Banner,  February  15,  1880: 

"The  churchyard  or  graveyard  was  southwest 
of  the  little  log  church,  fenced  in  by  upright 
pickets  driven  into  the  ground.  The  graves  were 
few. 

"There  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  first  Chris- 
tians who  died  in  the  vicinity  of  Kansas  City  were 
buried  at  the  summit  angle  of  the  bluff  just  east 
of  the  foot  of  Grand  Avenue.  I  saw  the  rude 
crosses  there  in  1846. 

"I  find  in  the  records  of  the  dead  the  follow- 
ing primitive  names,  viz. :  Edward  Petelle,  Mary 
Dripps,  (Otto-nata),  Virginia  Philibert,  Marie  Bel- 
more,  L.  Felix  Canville,  James  Gre,  Andre  P.  Roy, 
Lenard  Benoist,  Lessert,  Jarboe,  Farrier,  and  many 
others.     Margaret  Prudhomme,  Henri  Henri,  etc. 

"Gieso  Chouteau,  a  gallant  lieutenant  in  the 
United  States  army  during  the  Mexican  war,  the 
Guinotte  brothers,  Belgians  by  birth;  Dr.  Benoist 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        135 

Troost,  a  surgeon  in  the  grand  army  of  Napoleon 
the  Great,  etc.,  etc.  The  unassuming  people  of 
those  days  were  the  hardy,  fearless  pioneers  of 
religion  and  Christian  civilization." 

Safeguarding  the  original  ten  acres  of  church 
property  purchased  by  Father  Le  Roux  was  a  con- 
stant care  of  Father  Donnelly's  lifetime.  "When  I 
came  here  in  1845  I  found  the  ten  acres,  the  log 
church  and  little  cabin  or  resting  house  in  the  care 
of  Madam  Margaret  Gre,  an  Iroquois  Indian 
woman,  with  her  six  children.  The  poor  woman 
had  been  forced  to  abandon  her  hut  in  the  West 
Kanzas  bottoms  by  the  great  overflow  of  1844. 
She  was  living  in  a  hovel,  half  wood  and  half  can- 
vas. She  kept  the  log  church  neat  and  tidy.  She 
did  her  cooking  in  a  small  apartment  on  the  south 
end  of  the  log  hut.  She  spoke  English  imperfectly, 
but  had  a  good  command  of  French  and  her  own 
Indian  dialect.  She  was  strong  and  fearless  and 
at  the  approach  of  strangers  carried  a  large  stick 
which  she  held  hoisted  in  a  threatening  manner 
until  she  was  sure  of  the  friendly  intentions  of  the 
invaders. 

"It  was  in  1847  after  an  absence  in  South 
Missouri  from  Independence  my  home,  and  Kan- 
zas, my  mission,  that  I  luckily  obtained  the  two- 
fold information  that  a  charter  had  been  granted 
and  a  company  formed  to  lay  off  a  town  at  the 
river,  and  that  the  members  of  my  Catholic  con- 
gregation, headed  by  Dr.  Benoist  Troost,  had  held 
several  meetings  during  my  absence  at  which  it 
was  moved,  seconded,  and  passed  to  sell  the  ten 
acre  lot  for  $500  and  to  accept  from  the  town  com- 
pany the  donation  of  six  lots  of  sixty  feet  front 
each,  situated  on  the  high  bluff  east  of  Broadway 
where  now  is  to  be  seen  a  brickyard.  At  that  time 
$500  was  considered  a  high  price  for  ten  acres. 
Next  day  Dr.  Troost  called  upon  me,  showed  me 


136        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

the  petition  to  Archbishop  Kenrick,  at  the  same 
time  pointing  out  the  blank  intended  for  my  name. 
The  Doctor  was  too  intelligent  a  man  not  to  know 
that  the  signature  of  the  pastor  was  more  potent 
with  the  Archbishop  than  those  of  all  the  others 
put  together.    So  the  doctor  very  politely  and  per- 
suasively requested  me  to  sign  the  petition.     With 
an  assuring  tone  and  a  confiding  look  I  asked  the 
doctor  if  it  were  not  more  politic  and  prudent  to 
address  a  few  lines  of  my  own  to  the  Archbishop 
and  give  him  a  more  lucid  account  of  matters  and 
things  at  Kansas   City,   and  to   point  out  to   his 
Grace  the  prospective  impulse  the  starting  of  a 
new  city  down  at  the  river  would  give  to  religion, 
etc.     The  doctor  acquiesced.     I  wrote  a  letter  to 
the  Archbishop   stating  everything,   but  warning 
him  against   complying  with  the  request   of  the 
petition.    Among  other  things  I  made  the  common- 
sense  argument  to  induce  him  to  agree  with  me: 
'It  is  true  a  company  has  been  chartered  with  the 
object  of  starting  a  new  town,  the  site  to  be  laid 
off  at  the  river,  but  I  wish  to  remind  your  Grace 
that  if  it  ever  be  of  much  account,  the  city  will 
come  over  our  way,  for  it  cannot  go  into  the  river, 
and  therefore  in  a  short  time  we  may  find  our- 
selves near  enough  to  it.    The  town  must  come  this 
way.'     The  Archbishop  answered:     'I  do  not  wish 
to  divert  the  church  lot  near  Kanzas  from  the  in- 
tentions of  the  donor.'  " 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  COMING  OF  THE  RELIGIOUS  ORDERS. 


fi 


'ATHER  DONNELLY'S  entrance  into  Kan- 
sas City  cut  off  his  large  missionary  field 
on  the  south  and  to  a  great  extent  on  the 
east.  His  limits  were  narrowed  down,  but 
his  interest  in  the  old  territory  was  as  keen  as  ever. 
Indeed,  he  translated  the  Greek  word  Episcopos  to 
"guardian,  superintendent,  overseer."  He  was  al- 
ways the  Episcopos  or  overseer,  of  his  old  original 
territory.  Nothing  done  in  his  old  field  escaped 
his  watchful  attention.  He  was  happy  at  the  good, 
fruitful  work  of  the  priests  to  whom  his  domain 
was  parcelled  off.  He  lauded  the  zeal  and  activi- 
ty of  his  clerical  helpers,  and  was  glad  to  return  a 
visit  from  any  of  the  new  pastors. 

The  needs  of  the  Church  in  Kansas  City 
went  apace  with  the  growth  of  the  city.  He  could 
not  expect  the  required  financial  help  from  his 
people.  With  two  or  three  exceptions  they  were 
all  struggling  to  meet  the  family  demands.  He 
quoted  the  words  of  the  magician :  "There  is 
gold  in  the  ground,  and  with  my  wand  I'll  set  it 
free."  The  gold  in  the  West  was  hidden  in  the 
Rockies  near  Pike's  Peak,  and  in  California.  He 
saw  help  and  wealth  in  the  very  clay  of  the  ten 
acres.  He  dug  up  the  earth  and  shaped  it  into 
bricks.  He  kept  his  brickyard  in  service  until  the 
early  '70s.  He  sold  thousands  of  brick,  and  what 
he  retained  he  used  in  the  parish  school.  It  was 
brick  from  his  yards  that*  built  the  original  St. 
Teresa's  Academy  facing  on  Twelfth  Street.  With 
them  he  completed  his  residence,  making  it  a  two- 
story  building.  He  readily  found  purchasers  for 
his  product.     The  financial  results  made  him  able 


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Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        139 

to  donate  $3,000  to  the  German  church  of  Saints 
Peter  and  Paul.  He  gave  out  of  his  savings  $2,000 
in  cash  to  St.  Patrick's  parish  soon  after  it  was 
started.  To  the  Annunciation  parish  he  contri- 
buted $500,  all  he  could  then  afford.  He  never 
solicited  for  the  purchase  of  Mount  St.  Mary's 
Cemetery,  but  bought  the  forty-four  acres  and 
paid  for  them  from  his  savings  outside  of  the  brick 
industry.  The  ten  acres  which  he  first  intended 
for  a  cemetery,  but  because  of  its  rocky  soil  found 
unsuited  for  burial  purposes,  he  bought  and  paid 
for  without  any  call  upon  the  public.  This  is  the 
site  of  the  St.  Joseph's  Orphan  Asylum. 

When  the  Civil  War  broke  out  Father  Don- 
nelly had  the  basement  of  a  large  brick  school  on 
Washington  Street  completed.  Further  work  on 
the  building  was  out  of  the  question.  But  with 
the  exception  of  the  three  days  of  the  battle  of 
Westport,  the  teacher,  Miss  Mary  Virginia  Haverty, 
now  Mrs.  S.  Jarboe,  never  neglected  her  class  one 
day.  They  held  school  in  the  basement.  As  the 
city's  population  fell  from  over  six  to  less  than  one 
thousand,  the  school  attendance  correspondingly 
decreased.  With  the  return  of  peace  the  city 
gradually  grew,  and  with  it,  the  Catholic  school. 
In  1866  Father  Donnelly  applied  to  the  mother- 
house  at  Carondelet  for  teachers.  When  he  re- 
ceived a  favorable  response  he  finished  the  two 
stories  over  the  basement  and  built  a  large  brick 
front  to  the  original  structure,  facing  it  towards 
12th  Street.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  future 
St.  Teresa's  Academy.  Mother  Francis  was  the 
first  superior.  With  her  were  six  other  Sisters. 
From  their  very  arrival  there  were  evidences  of 
success.  In  1869  Mother  De  Pazzi  replaced  Mother 
Francis.  The  city  was  growing  rapidly,  and  the 
attendance  at  St.  Teresa's  Academy  was  satisfac- 
tory.   Local  families  sent  their  children  there  and 


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Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        141 

the  towns  of  Kansas  were  represented  in  the  at- 
tendance. Independence,  Lexington,  Liberty  and 
Weston  took  advantage  of  the  only  convent  board- 
ing school  near  by  and  figured  among  its  patrons. 
Old  St.  Teresa's  Academy  has  been  forced  from 
its  original  site  by  the  enroachment  of  commerce. 
Its  new  location  is  in  the  most  desirable  part  of 
Kansas  City.  The  new  buildings  are  unsurpassed 
in  architectural  beauty  and  modern  facilities  by 
the  most  modern  female  colleges  in  America.  The 
Sisters  of  St.  Joseph  in  academy  and  parochial 
work  have  never  lost  their  hold  on  the  Catholics 
of  Kansas  City  and  surrounding  territory.  The 
St.  Joseph  Hospital  was  suggested  and  aided 
financially  by  Father  Donnelly.  It  began  as  a 
seven-room,  two-story  frame  building.  Like  the 
Academy  the  hospital  yielded  to  the  advance  of 
business,  and  its  namesake  occupies  a  command- 
ing site  in  a  resident  district,  central,  and  free 
from  the  noise  and  influences  detrimental  to  the 
sick.  Its  style  of  architecture  has  been  copied  in 
various  cities  of  the  East. 

The  St.  Joseph's  Orphan  Asylum  still  retains 
its  original  location,  on  the  ten  acres  donated  by 
Father  Donnelly.  The  Park  Board  of  Kansas  City 
has  secured  the  permanency  and  usefulness  of  the 
asylum  on  its  original  site  by  swinging  around  it  the 
picturesque  boulevard  arising  from  Penn  Valley 
Park  and  named  for  one  of  Kansas  City's  greatest 
citizens,  Mr.  Karnes,  whose  loyalty  to  Kansas  City 
and  whose  ability  as  a  lawyer  will  live  in  the  his- 
tory of  his  beloved  city.  The  Sisters  of  St.  Joseph 
teach  the  school  attached  to  the  cathedral,  and 
are  still  on  the  ten  acres  of  Father  Le  Roux,  where 
they  instruct  350  pupils.  The  other  schools  under 
their  care  in  Kansas  City  are:  The  Redemptorist 
School,  where  they  have  over  500  pupils,  in  con- 
nection with  which  they  teach  a  commercial  course 


142        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

and  have  a  high  school  department;  they  have  95 
pupils  in  the  Assumption  School;  450  in  the  school 
of  the  Holy  Rosary;  85  in  the  school  of  Our  Lady 
of  Guadalupe  (Mexican)  ;  and  70  in  Sts.  Peter 
and  Paul's.  In  the  St.  Joseph  Orphan  Asylum 
they  teach  the  orphans  and  have  recently  admitted 
children  outside  the  institution.  They  came  here 
with  seven  members  to  open  Father  Donnelly's 
school.  Today  they  have  120  Sisters  in  Kansas 
City  and  their  pupils  in  the  orphanage,  Academy 
and  Parish  schools  number  fully  2,000. 

Father  Donnelly  assisted  the  Redemptorist 
Fathers  to  buy  their  site  of  ten  acres.  In  1876 
he  invited  them  to  give  a  two  weeks'  mission  in 
his  church.  The  Very  Reverend  Father  Provincial 
sent  Fathers  Cook,  Enright  and  Kern  in  response 
to  the  request.  That  mission  was  truly  a  religious 
awakening  and  an  impetus  in  the  Catholic  Church 
of  Kansas  City.  The  Immaculate  Conception 
Church  was  central,  with  St.  Patrick's  Church  on 
the  east  and  the  Church  of  the  Annunciation  on 
the  west.  The  church  (about  35x60  feet)  was  not 
large  enough  for  the  demands  of  the  parish,  but 
after  the  first  Sunday  the  whole  city  became  ani- 
mated with  the  spiritual  interest  aroused  in  the 
mother  parish.  The  crowds  that  flocked  to  the 
Monday  evening  sermon  filled  the  church  to  stand- 
ing room.  Those  who  could  not  enter  stood  around 
in  large  numbers,  the  windows  were  opened,  and 
the  outside  attendance  outnumbered  the  inside. 
Tuesday  evening  the  schools  on  11th  and  on  Wash- 
ington Streets  were  packed  to  the  doors,  while 
the  church  proper  held  as  many  people  as  on  the 
previous  night.  Every  night  until  the  close,  three 
missionaries  preached  in  church  and  the  two 
schools.  Day  after  day  from  the  five  o'clock  Mass 
in  the  morning  until  late  at  night  confessions  were 
heard.     Father  Cook,  the  superior  of  the  mission, 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        143 

seeing  what  was  confronting  him,  had  two  more 
missionaries  hurried  from  the  Rock  Church  in  St. 
Louis.  The  number  of  confessions  and  Com- 
munions seemed  to  grow  with  each  day.  It  was 
a  pleasant  surprise  to  the  local  priests.  They  did 
not  know  there  were  so  many  Catholics  in  their 
city.  Many  men  of  social  and  financial  standing, 
calling  themselves  Catholics,  whose  wives  and 
children  went  to  Mass  and  their  duties,  were 
avowed  Freemasons,  Oddfellows,  and  Knights  of 
Pythias.  They  marched  in  the  parades  of  these 
societies.  It  would  seem  that  some  special  grace 
led  these  men  to  attend  the  mission.  They  tore 
loose  from  these  forbidden  organizations  and  re- 
sumed their  standing  in  the  church.  Kansas  City 
was  booming  at  that  time  and  many  newcomers 
lost  no  time  in  making  themselves  known  to  their 
respective  pastors  as  a  result  of  the  mission.  A 
spirit  of  indifference  at  least,  or  perhaps  the  ex- 
ample on  the  part  of  the  home  people  had  made 
them  believe  it  was  the  smart  thing  to  stay  away 
from  Mass  on  Sundays. 

The  two  newer  parishes  were  beneficiaries  of 
the  mission.  The  following  year  Father  Cook,  with 
Fathers  Rosenbauer,  McLaughlin  and  Kern,  opened 
a  mission  in  the  Annunciation  Parish.  The  Cath- 
olics from  the  hilltops  came  down  to  the  West  Kan- 
sas City  bottoms,  and  every  man  and  woman  in 
that  new  district  attended  early  Masses  and  ap- 
proached the  Sacraments.  The  two  new  school 
buildings  took  care  of  the  overflow  at  the  spacious 
temporary  church.  The  magnetic  zeal  of  the  Re- 
demptorists  suggested  to  Father  Donnelly  to  invite 
them  to  a  permanent  residence  in  Kansas  City. 
Nothing  was  too  good  for  his  beloved  city.  Its 
interests  were  always  uppermost  in  his  heart.  The 
growth  of  the  church  and  the  salvation  of  his  people 
were  deeper  in  his  every  thought  and  prayer  than 


144        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

even  the  material  advancement  of  the  city.  He  lost 
no  time  in  opening  up  a  correspondence  with  the 
Very  Reverend  Provincial,  Father  Jaeckel,  and 
then  repeated  his  wish  in  a  letter  to  Archbishop 
Kenrick  of  St.  Louis.  Father  Jaeckel  consulted 
the  Father  General  (Father  Mauron)  at  Rome.  A 
speedy  permission  resulted.  This  was  in  Novem- 
ber, 1877.  The  Father  Provincial  soon  came  to 
Kansas  City  to  secure  a  site  for  the  future  home. 
Father  Donnelly  had  in  mind  a  desirable  place. 
Cook's  Pasture  seemed  to  him  to  be  central ;  it  was 
just  inside  the  city  limits.  It  began  at  17th  and 
Summit  Streets,  running  to  Broadway  and  south 
to  24th  Street.  It  was  rolling  ground,  in  parts 
well  shaded  by  stately  oaks.  There  were  many 
acres  of  rich,  loamy  soil.  The  price  was  reason- 
able. The  Father  Provincial  was  much  pleased 
and  his  mind  was  made  up  to  purchase. 

When  Father  Jaeckel  called  on  the  archbishop 
for  approval,  His  Grace  procured  a  map  of  Kansas 
City  which  he  had  filed  away.  Cook's  Pasture 
being  pointed  out,  His  Grace  thought  the  location 
was  too  near  the  other  city  parishes  and  advised 
that  they  would  go  south,  near  Westport.  "Father 
Donnelly  is  constantly  telling  me  that  the  growth 
of  the  city  is  southward.  Besides,  as  you  intend 
to  start  your  work  with  a  school  for  young  postu- 
lants, and  will  in  a  short  while  establish  your  novi- 
tiate there,  I  think  you  will  find  a  much  more  con- 
venient location  on  the  high  land  near  Westport. 
Cook's  Pasture  will  soon  be  a  downtown  neighbor- 
hood." The  Provincial  shortly  afterwards  returned 
to  Kansas  City.  Father  Donnelly  then  offered  him 
a  present  of  his  ten  acres  near  31st  and  Jefferson 
Streets.  While  grateful  for  such  a  generous  ten- 
der, the  .father  Provincial  wished  to  be  on  a  main 
street  or  avenue  running  from  Kansas  City  to 
Westport.     The  Jefferson  Street  property  was  out 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        145 

of  the  way.  In  addition,  it  was  high  and  uneven, 
and  had  a  heavy  rock  deposit  which  would  entail 
expense  in  building.  With  many  tnanks  he  declined 
Father  Donnelly's  gift  of  property.  Father  Don- 
nelly was  not  disheartened.  He  admitted  that  a 
better  site  lay  not  many  yards  away.  It  was  level 
and  on  tne  very  street  running  south  to  Westport, 
He  would  contribute  to  the  purchase  of  the  more 
desirable  property.  The  Mastin  Brothers,  then  the 
leading  Kansas  City  banKers,  owned  a  large  farm 
south  and  east  of  Kansas  City.  A  corner  covering 
ten  acres  facing  north  and  extending  southward 
along  the  Westport  road  was  for  sale,  the  first 
partition  of  the  farm,  and  its  most  desirable  part. 
The  deed  of  purchase  was  drawn  up  and  signed 
before  tne  Provincial  returned  to  St.  Louis,  'mis 
property  was  just  what  Father  JaecKel  wanteu. 
It  was  conveniently  located,  without  hill  or  quarry, 
about  two  miles  from  Kansas  City,  and  not  very 
far  from  the  old  town  of  Westport.  The  price 
was  five  thousand  dollars  for  ten  acres. 

How  proud  Father  Donnelly  was  when  he 
learned  from  the  Father  Provincial  a  few  days 
afterwards  that  it  was  the  intention  of  the  con- 
gregation to  use  the  property  for  the  home  of  their 
missionary  Fathers  and  for  a  novitiate  and  college 
and  seminary  for  their  students  and  novices.  "What 
an  honor  to  Kansas  City!"  he  would  exclaim.  "One 
of  the  best  known  and  most  efficient  religious  or- 
ganizations in  the  Church  coming  to  Kansas  City 
to  supply  missions  and  missionaries  to  the  whole 
country  from  New  Orleans  to  Detroit  and  from 
St.  Louis  to  the  Pacific  Ocean!  Kansas  City  is 
at  last  on  the  Map  of  Religion  in  the  United  States. 
This  was  something  I  hardly  dared  dream  of  in 
sleeping  or  wakeful  moments." 

The  date  of  the  purchase  was  December  3rd, 
1877.    A  two-story  building  with  a  high  stone  base- 


146        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

ment  was  started  in  early  spring.  The  cornerstone 
of  the  structure  was  laid  by  Father  Donnelly  on 
the  first  Sunday  of  March.  Reverend  Father  Cook, 
C.  S.  S.  R.,  preached.  Fathers  Dunn,  Dalton, 
Curran  (the  assistant  at  Immaculate  Conception 
Church),  John  Ryan  (assistant  at  Annunciation), 
two  Benedictine  Fathers  from  Atchison,  three  Re- 
demptorist  Fathers  from  St.  Louis,  and  Father  T. 
Fitzgerald  of  Independence,  Missouri,  took  part  in 
the  ceremony.  A  large  concourse  of  Catholics  from 
the  three  parishes  of  the  city  and  from  neighbor- 
ing towns  in  Kansas  was  present.  The  day  was 
unusually  fine  and  the  sun  shone  as  on  a  day  in 
May. 

The  structure  was  finished  and  on  May  28th, 
1878,  was  solemnly  blessed  by  the  Father  Pro- 
vincial, assisted  by  the  two  resident  priests,  Fathers 
Faivre  and  Luette.  Father  Faivre  was  Superior. 
A  lay  brother  was  the  third  member  of  the  com- 
munity. Improvements  on  the  grounds  and  the 
construction  of  an  annex  made  the  new  home  for 
the  novices  and  students  of  the  Province.  The 
transfer  of  the  novices  and  students  from  the  orig- 
inal home  at  Chatawa,  Mississippi,  to  Kansas  City 
took  place  in  January,  1879.  Father  Firley,  the 
Master  of  Novices,  escorted  the  young  men  to  their 
new  residence.  He  held  this  same  position  for 
many  years  and  was  local  Rector  in  Kansas  City 
and  afterwards  Provincial  of  the  Congregation. 

The  Redemptorist  Fathers  opened  their  spa- 
cious community  Chapel  to  the  few  Catholics  south 
of  the  city  limits.  The  little  mission  at  Westport 
was  practically  closed  from  January,  1875,  and  in 
time  became  succursal  to  St.  Patrick's  Parish.  Then 
it  was  put  under  the  charge  of  the  Redemptorists. 
Sick  calls  were  attended  by  the  Redemptorists  as 
far  south  and  east  as  Hickman  Mills  and  the  River 
Blue.     This  was  done  at  the  request  of  the  pastor 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        147 

of  St.  Patrick's  Church,  whose  growing  parish  made 
it  impracticable  to  go  so  far  away  from  his  home. 

A  new  duty  came  to  the  Redemptorists  early 
in  1880.  In  January  of  that  year  Father  Donnelly 
opened  the  Orphan  Asylum  on  what  is  now  Jef- 
ferson and  31st  Streets.  He  handed  over  to  them 
the  chaplaincy  of  the  new  St.  Joseph's  Orphanage. 

In  March,  1881,  the  Redemptorists  were  re- 
quested to  attend  once  a  month  the  missions  at 
Norborne,  Parkville  and  Liberty.  Father  Beil  was 
assigned  to  these  new  charges.  In  1882  the  new 
convent  of  the  Sisters  of  the  Poor  was  added  to 
the  charge  of  the  Redemptorists.  On  February 
21st,  1888,  the  Redemptorist  Parish  was  estab- 
lished. 

Many  of  these  original  novices  at  Kansas  City 
have  since  held  high  positions  in  their  congrega- 
tion. At  least  three  of  them  have  been  Fathers 
Provincial,  and  the  Rectors  at  St.  Louis,  New  Or- 
leans and  other  places  in  their  western  Province 
made  their  novitiate  in  the  Kansas  City  home. 
The  House  of  Students  was  in  time  transferred  to 
Kansas  City.  Newer  and  larger  buildings  followed 
as  a  necessity.  The  courses  immediately  prepara- 
tory to  the  priesthood  were  for  years  taught  here 
and  the  number  of  priests  ordained  in  the  Kansas 
City  house  is  very  large.  Almost  from  the  very 
start  the  Fathers  residing  at  Kansas  City  went 
forth  on  the  work  of  mission-giving.  Frequently 
they  have  given  missions  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  from 
San  Francisco  to  San  Diego  on  the  south,  and  to 
Portland,  and  northward  into  the  British  posses- 
sions in  Canada,  eastward  through  Salt  Lake,  Den- 
ver, and  the  towns  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  In 
every  diocese  west  and  south  of  Kansas  City  their 
missions  are  recorded  in  the  work  they  have  done 
for  God  and  humanity.  Like  St.  Paul  they  travel 
everywhere    and    preach    everywhere.      Time    and 


, — WW, — „_ 


'■, -iv  ■ 


Exterior  and  interior  of  Redemptorist  Church 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        149 

again  St.  Paul  and  New  Orleans  have  been  spirit- 
ually benefited  by  the  Redemptorist  Fathers  from 
the  Kansas  City  house.  The  churches  of  St.  Louis, 
Chicago,  Indianapolis,  Memphis  and  Alabama  are 
the  beneficiaries  of  the  zeal  and  efficiency  of  St. 
Alphonsus'  Rectorate  at  Kansas  City. 

Father  Donnelly's  zeal  for  the  salvation  of 
souls  is  far-reaching  in  the  work  of  his  chosen 
Redemptorists.  who  gave  preparatory  training  to 
their  subjects  at  Kansas  City.  Their  efficiency 
has  won  recognition  wherever  they  have  labored. 
Their  novitiate  is  now  at  De  Soto,  their  house  for 
preparatory  training  is  in  St.  Louis  County,  and 
the  seminary  for  the  closing  studies  before  enter- 
ing the  Sanctuary  is  on  one  of  the  picturesque  lakes 
of  Wisconsin.  The  changes  that  time  and  oppor- 
tunity demanded  have  consigned  the  Kansas  City 
home  of  St.  Alphonsus  to  mission  and  parish  duties. 
The  Fathers  here  are  as  ever  in  requisition  for 
missions,  everywhere  far  and  near.  Their  parish 
work  is  efficiency  itself.  Their  church  structure 
is  the  largest  in  the  city.  When  material  and  labor 
knew  no  such  prices  as  they  command  today,  St. 
Alphonsus'  Church  cost  over  $200,000.  Their 
schools  number  over  500  pupils,  and  are  academic 
as  well  as  preparatory.  New  and  larger  structures 
will  soon  follow  the  pressing  demands.  The  Church 
attendance  packs  the  spacious  aisles  and  fills  the 
pews  Sunday  after  Sunday.  The  number  of  con- 
fessions heard  is  very  large.  In  1920  the  number 
of  communions  exceeded  220,000. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
FATHER  DONNELLY  AS  A  LABORING  MAN. 


^-— -^HEN  Father  Donnelly  began  his  brickmak- 
m  I  ■  ^ng'  a^er  the  bricks  were  molded  and  car- 
III  ried  out  to  dry,  night  after  night  he 
VAx  watched  the  moon  and  the  sky,  and  when 
heavy  clouds  portended  a  coming  rain,  would  not 
wait  to  call  the  yard  laborers  from  their  slumbers, 
but  in  his  barrow  and  on  boards  would  carry  the 
bricks  to  a  sheltered  place.  When  the  rain  ceased 
he  helped  carry  them  back  to  the  sun's  rays.  In 
his  brickyard  he  wore  the  overalls  of  the  laborer. 
He  laughed  heartily  when  passersby  or  strangers 
would  mistake  him  for  a  workman.  He  was  pleased 
to  hear  it  bandied  about  that  he  was  one  of  the 
hired  men  in  the  church  brickyard.  The  church 
property  on  the  east  side  and  from  the  south  to 
the  west  limits,  was  graded  down  to  the  street  level 
by  converting  the  elevated  parts  into  brick.  He 
called  this  result  good  business  and  the  saving  of 
hundreds  of  dollars.  The  extreme  west  end  of  the 
church  property  to  the  north  was  what  he  called 
the  Rocky  Point.  Large  bulging  tiers  of  rock  went 
up  fifteen  feet  high.  Between  times  and  when  his 
work  in  the  brickyards  was  easing  up,  he  turned 
to  what  he  called  the  "Rocky  Point."  The  small 
and  the  softer  stones  he  sold  to  contractors  who 
were  riprapping  the  Missouri  River.  Some  of  the 
stone  would  make  good  lime.  He  built  kilns  just 
as  he  had  seen  them  abroad.  Yard  after  yard  of 
stone  crumbled  and  fell  in  flakes  or  chunks  under 
his  eyes.  He  called  this  employment  "working  at 
my  old  trade."  Father  Donnelly  had  the  habit  of 
his  countrymen  of  always  portraying  the  things  at 
home  as  better  than  the  same  in  America,  "but  my 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        151 

lime  was  never  excelled  at  home  or  abroad,"  was  a 
daily  boast.  He  ought  to  know.  In  this,  as  in  any- 
thing else  he  prided  himself  on,  it  was  wise  never 
to  contradict  him,  "for  though  defeated,  he  would 
argue  still."  Builders  and  contractors  said  his  lime 
and  brick  were  of  a  very  high  grade. 

When  he  had  disposed  of  the  top  ledges  of  the 
quarry  he  came  to  a  hard  white  vein  of  good  build- 
ing stone.  He  found  a  ready  market  for  this  to  be 
used  in  facings  and  steps.  Here  he  proved  himself 
a  competent  stone  cutter.  Oftentimes  he  could  be 
seen  by  the  side  of  the  mechanic  with  chisel  and 
mallet  cutting  down  and  facing  large  slabs  of  this 
native  stone.  Men  working  by  his  side  many  a  time 
allowed  their  curiosity  and  astonishment  to  get  the 
upper  hand  and  would  say,  "Where  did  you  learn 
this  trade?"  His  reply  was  the  Irishman's;  it  did 
not  afford  any  information.  He  would  respond, 
"Sure,  I  had  to  work  for  my  living  when  I  was 
young  and  hardy  like  yourselves."  Day  after  day 
Father  Donnelly  hammered  and  chiseled  alongside 
the  well-known  contractors,  Bishop  and  Hughes, 
who  passed  most  favorably  on  his  skill  and  used  to 
say  they  could  not  surpass  him.  The  stone  tracings 
in  the  circular  front  window  of  St.  Benedict's 
Church  at  Atchison  were  done  on  stone  from  Father 
Donnelly's  quarries  and  with  his  help. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
MORE  LETTERS. 

December,   1879. 
Dear  Father  Dalton,  Editor  Western  Banner: 

'OUR  repeated  invitations  to  contribute  to 
the  columns  of  your  paper  are  gratefully 
received  and  I  now  comply.     As  you  have 
suggested  for  my  topic  something  historical 
of  the  early  days  of  my  missionary  life  I  will  tell 
your  readers  some  of  the  few  things  I  can  now  re- 
call.   I  was  the  third  duly  appointed  resident  ^pastor 
of  Kanzas — it  was  simply  Kanzas — no  "City"  affix 
when  I  came  to  Independence.     Let  me  name  the 
two  resident  pastors  previous  to  my  appointment. 
The  first  was  Rev.  Father  Le  Roux,  who  purchased 
the  church  site.    Father  Saulnier  was  the  next  resi- 
dent pastor.     He  remained  here  only  one  year.     I 
was   pastor    at   Independence   when   he   left   here. 
Archbishop  Kenrick  wrote  me  to  take  back  Kanzas 
as  one  of  my  missions.    In  1857  Father  Denis  Ken- 
nedy was  made  resident  pastor  and  a  few  days  after 
coming  here  exchanged  with  me  for  Independence. 
From  that  time  I  was  really  pastor  here.     It  was 
indeed  at  my  suggestion  that  his  Grace  raised  Kan- 
zas once  again  to  a  parish.     While  in  charge  here 
I  built  the  Immaculate  Conception  Church,  facing 
on  what  is  now  Broadway,  midway  between  Elev- 
enth and  Twelfth  Streets.    The  little  log  church  was 
erected  by  Father  Le  Roux.    It  was  a  log  structure 
15x32  feet  with  two  windows  on  each  side,  and  an 
entrance  facing  east.     It  rested  on  a  stone  founda- 
tion.    The  style  of  architecture,  if  it  might  be  so 
dignified,  was  identically  like  the  style  of  the  orig- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        153 

inal  churches  at  St.  Louis,  Missouri,  and  the  ones 
at  Lexington,  Liberty  and  St.  Joseph.  They  were 
really  chapels  and  had  no  patron  saints  for  many 
years.  Like  the  others,  it  was  too  small  for  any- 
thing resembling  a  steeple  on  top,  and  when  I  ar- 
rived it  did  not  even  have  a  cross  above  the  entrance. 
I  placed  a  small  wooden  cross  on  it.  Outside,  on 
the  east  side  about  six  or  eight  feet  away  and  about 
two  feet  back  from  the  line  of  the  front  of  the 
church,  was  a  roughly-shaped  belfry  built  of  heavy 
supports  or  beams,  nearly  a  foot  in  diameter.  It 
was  sixteen  feet  in  height ;  rough  pine  boards  made 
a  roof  to  screen  the  bell  from  the  weather  and  I 
suppose  to  keep  the  sound  of  the  bell  from  an  up- 
ward tendency,  for  its  warning  notes  were  intended 
to  be  towards  the  earth  where  they  would  reach 
the  ears  of  the  people.  Resting  on  the  roof  of 
the  belfry  was  a  large  cross,  out  of  all  proportion 
with  church  and  belfry.  The  bell  was  a  gift  from 
the  first  pastor,  Father  Le  Roux,  after  he  left  here 
and  while  he  was  pastor  of  Cahokia  or  some  little 
French  settlement  opposite  St.  Louis.  This  bell  I 
gave  to  the  Sisters  of  St.  Teresa's  Convent.  It  is 
still  used  to  call  the  Sisters  to  their  various  duties. 
It  also  serves  the  purpose  of  arousing  me  from  my 
slumbers  at  five  o'clock  every  morning.  The  sound 
and  shape  of  the  bell  resemble  the  steamboat  bells 
on  the  boats  plying  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi 
Rivers. 

The  walls  and  flat  ceiling  of  the  log  church 
were  plastered  with  a  rough  finish.  Besides  the 
Stations  of  the  Cross,  there  was  back  of  the  altar 
a  painting  in  oil  of  Christ  Crucified.  On  the  out- 
side of  the  small  Sanctuary  hung  two  oil  paintings, 
one  of  some  Saint  Bishop,  standing,  with  mitre  on 
and  holding  a  crozier.  On  the  right-hand  side  of 
the  bishop  was  a  true  picture  of  his  own  mitred 
head   resting   on    a   platter,    this   head   being   the 


154        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

bishop's  head  decapitated.  The  whole  effect  was 
that  the  good  bishop  was  in  a  trance  and  saw  where 
his  head  was  soon  to  be.  The  picture  was  of  the 
Spanish  school  of  art  and  looked  as  if  it  had  been 
cut  out  of  a  large  painting.  It  was  loaned  the 
church  by  the  Chouteau  family.  The  other  picture 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  altar  was  of  a  martyr 
being  flagellated.  The  altar  piece,  Christ  on  the 
Cross,  and  the  picture  of  the  martyr,  were  surely 
of  the  realistic  school,  which  was  in  striking  con- 
trast to  the  art  displayed  on  the  canvas  of  the 
bishop  with  the  head  on  and  off.  The  history  of 
these  pictures  was  that  they  were  brought  here 
from  Mexico  by  some  of  the  traders  who  traversed 
plains  and  mountains  back  and  forth  from  Mexico. 
They  were  either  purchased  or  seized  from  some  of 
the  missions  in  Mexico,  or  were  quietly  taken  away 
and  found  a  home  in  Kansas  City. 

Two  rows  of  unpainted  pews  lined  either  side 
of  the  one  aisle  of  the  church.  A  few  kneelers  were 
to  be  found  here  and  there  in  front  of  pews.  Some 
boards  nailed  together  with  a  latticed  opening  in 
the  center,  was  the  confessional.  On  week  days 
Father  Saulnier  used  the  church  for  a  school.  He 
was  the  teacher.  Among  other  branches,  he  taught 
French  and  English.  My  school  at  Independence 
antedated  the  one  at  Kansas  City  a  few  months. 
I  had  to  help  me  a  Miss  Mullins,  a  member  of  one 
of  our  best  Catholic  families. 

The  first  historic  notice  of  the  log  church  is 
made  in  the  deed  of  transfer  given  by  Father  Le 
Roux  to  Bishop  Rosatti  of  St.  Louis.  In  the  deed  is 
the  mention  of  a  small  two-room  log  house.  I  often 
found  this  hut  a  convenient  place  to  sit  in  dur- 
ing my  stay  in  going  and  coming  from  Independ- 
ence. I  usually  read  my  office  in  the  west 
room.  Other  missionary  priests  would  while  away 
a  few  hours  resting  in  the  east  room.     The  west 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        155 

room  was  comfortable  in  a  rain  or  in  cold  weather, 
for  it  had  a  fireplace  and  a  few  kitchen  con- 
veniences. The  rooms  were  too  small  to  be  a  living 
place.  It  was  never  Father  Le  Roux's  intention 
to  make  it  a  residence.  I  and  all  the  other  priests 
attending  here  stayed  over  night  and  sometimes 
for  days  in  the  hospitable  dwelling  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Chouteau,  with  the  Jarboe  family,  or  at  the  Guinotte 
home.  Father  Le  Roux  lived  with  the  Chouteaus 
during  his  stay  here.  It  was  his  home;  it  was  the 
home  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries  from  St.  Mary's 
in  the  Pottawatomie  country.  "The  priest's  home 
in  early  days"  is  a  misnomer.  The  hut  served  the 
purpose  principally  of  an  outside  sacristy,  con- 
venient for  a  sitting  place  while  the  priests  were 
waiting  for  confessions  on  Saturdays.  The  inter- 
stices between  the  logs  were  never  properly  filled. 
In  fact,  it  was  impossible  to  fill  them,  as  the  logs 
were  so  uneven  and  the  knot  holes  so  numerous. 
The  wood  was  decayed.  It  had  been  part  of  some 
hovel  somewhere  before  used  here.  To  the  mis- 
sionary, accustomed  to  sleeping  in  the  open,  the 
log  cabin  would  be  a  misery  and  would  give  him 
rheumatism. 

The  church  and  cabin  and  ten  acres  were  all 
given  and  paid  for  by  Father  Le  Roux  out  of  his 
own  funds.  He  had  some  private  means  when  he 
came  here  and  had  no  expensive  habits.  I  never 
had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Father  Le  Roux,  he 
was  gone  before  my  time.  He  paid  a  short  visit 
to  his  old  parishioners  late  in  1844 — in  September, 
after  the  great  flood.  He  did  little  missionary  work 
while  here,  contenting  himself  with  following  up 
some  Trois  Rivieres  Catholics  who  were  working 
at  the  various  Chouteau  agencies,  or  who  were 
engaged  in  hunting  and  trapping.  La  Liberte, 
Pierre  Chouteau,  and  those  who  were  here  in  his 
day,  lauded  him  for  his  piety  and  refinement  of 


156        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

mind  and  manner.  Father  Lutz  spent  a  few  days 
here  in  the  early  spring  of  1844.  Father  Saulnier, 
my  immediate  predecessor,  was  from  Canada, 
where  he  served  as  pastor  near  Quebec.  The  West 
did  not  appeal  to  him.  He  was  well  spoken  of, 
and  my  acquaintance  with  him  made  me  respect 
him  highly.  He  had  all  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
French  pioneer  priest.  He  opened  up  new  books 
of  marriages  and  baptisms.  Those  records  from 
the  coming  of  Father  Le  Roux,  some  entries  made 
by  Father  Lutz  and  some  passing  priests,  were  de- 
posited for  safety  in  the  Chouteau  warehouse  on 
the  levee.  The  records  were  swept  down  the 
swollen  river  with  the  warehouse.  A  few  leaves 
with  baptism  entries  were  found  afterwards  in  the 
Chouteau  home  and  were  handed  me.  The  records 
made  by  the  Jesuit  Fathers  were  taken  home  with 
them  to  their  mission  house  at  St.  Mary's.  Fathers 
Ward  and  Stuntebeck,  rectors  of  St.  Mary's  Col- 
lege, informed  me  that  the  records  made  here  and 
taken  to  St.  Mary's  are  in  a  good  state  of  preserva- 
tion, at  their  flourishing  college  in  Pottawatomie 
County. 

This  communication  is  entirely  too  long.  I 
don't  write  as  easily  as  I  used  to,  and  the  joints 
of  my  fingers  do  not  work  as  smoothly  as  when 
I  was  young.  Another  letter  for  next  week's  Ban- 
ner.    Age  has  its  penalties. 

Bernard  Donnelly. 

December,  1879. 
Dear  Editor: 

Let  me  correct  my  closing  remark  in  last 
week's  letter.  I  said  I  was  old.  Give  me  the  Irish- 
man's privilege  of  speaking  twice,  the  second  time 
to  correct  the  first  speech.  I  am  not  old.  I  am  a 
Donnelly.  My  father  died  but  the  other  day,  and 
he  was  112  years  old.     It  was  an  accident  that 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        157 

killed  him  or  he  would  be  living  still. 

But  to  the  task  you  have  imposed  on  me,  per- 
taining to  the  early  days  at  Kansas  City.  I  often 
thought  when  you  would  ask  me  questions  about 
old  times  that  you  meant  to  make  a  history  of  the 
information.  But  now  you  make  me  the  writer  as 
you  win  me  over  to  be  the  narrator.  Who  knows? 
If  you  see  it  worth  while  you  may  make  me  a  hero 
of  a  biography. 

But  to  the  task  you  have  laid  on  me:  My 
memory  is  full  of  the  heroic  sacrifices  of  the  Jesuit 
missionaries  in  these  parts.  My  soul  is  full  of 
admiration  of  the  work  of  God  done  by  those  good 
men.  They  certainly  imbibed  the  spirit  of  their 
great  founder,  St.  Ignatius.  The  greater  glory  of 
God  is  their  aim  and  their  inspiration.  St.  Ignatius 
did  not  court,  does  not  take,  the  drone,  the  coward, 
or  the  brainless.  Brain,  brawn,  and  zeal  make  up 
the  Jesuit  of  today.  A  military  fire  to  do  or  die 
burns  within  them.  They  know  something  about 
everything  and  a  great  deal  about  many  things. 
I  read  of  the  Jesuits  before  I  ever  saw  them.  I 
found  them  learned  in  the  sciences  and  elegant  in 
the  languages.  I  read  of  the  elaborate  plans  and 
the  forty  years  of  deep  study  with  which  they  pre- 
pared to  enter  China  and  foreign  countries.  I 
heard  them  tell  of  their  brethren,  and  others,  too, 
relate  of  the  heroism  and  greatness  of  their  mis- 
sionaries in  China  and  Japan,  and  the  world  over. 
But  I  have  lived  to  see  them  with  my  own  eyes 
and  I  know  the  zeal  and  fearlessness  of  their 
members  in  other  days  survive  to  as  great  extent 
in  the  De  Smet,  the  Eysvogels,  the  Verreydt,  the 
Galliand,  of  Missouri,  Kansas  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  They  have  been  an  inspiration  and 
an  impetus  to  me  in  my  territory.  They  have  been 
my  friends,  my  advisers,  and  my  models.  I  could 
write  for  hours  of  what  I  know  they  did  in  these 


158       Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

parts.  They  have  been  the  builders-up  of  religion 
from  St.  Louis  along  the  Missouri,  across  the 
Rockies  to  the  far-off  Pacific  Coast.  They  never 
lived  here  as  residents,  but  their  regular  visits  here 
kept  religion  among  the  Catholic  pioneers  fishing 
for  a  livelihood  in  the  rivers  and  trapping  and  hunt- 
ing on  the  plains  and  mountains.  They  never 
passed  my  poor  home  without  visiting  me  and  en- 
couraging me  by  word  and  example.  They 
cheered  me  when  I  was  despondent,  and  they  more 
than  once  used  their  credit  and  their  own  scanty 
means  when  I  was  out  of  pocket  and  hungry.  This 
poor  tribute  does  not  do  ample  justice  to  the  debt 
I  owe  them.  They  built  up  the  Faith  here  and 
organized  the  church  and  made  life  possible  for 
the  secular  priests.  When  Kansas  City  began  to 
build  up  parishes,  I  more  than  once  wrote  the  su- 
periors in  St.  Louis  to  start  a  church  here.  They 
told  me  they  could  not  come.  The  church's  per- 
manency will  never  be  assured  until  the  Jesuits 
come  back  to  this,  the  scene  of  their  early  efforts. 
I  have  often  prayed  to  live  to  see  a  church  and  a 
college  here  under  their  administration.  You,  the 
young  editor,  are  but  a  boy  in  years — you  will  see 
your  teachers  of  St.  Louis  University  your  co- 
laborers  here.  The  Jesuits,  the  Eysvogels,  Ver- 
reydt,  De  Smet,  etc.,  baptized,  married  and 
preached  here.  So  did  Verhaegen,  Hoecken, 
Aelen,  and  many  others  of  the  Society. 

The  Lazarist  Fathers,  my  old  professors  at 
the  Barrens,  hunted  the  stray  Catholic  from  the 
Barrens  to  the  Territory  and  to  Texas.  Father 
Tom  Burke  and  another  priest  whose  name  I  can- 
not recall,  were  requested  by  the  bishop  to  traverse 
west  Missouri  and  to  report  to  him  where  he  would 
be  justified  in  opening  up  missions  for  diocesan 
priests.  They  left  the  Barrens  in  the  year  1845 
on  horseback  to  go  to  the  extreme  southwest  por- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        159 

tion  of  Missouri.  They  could  find  but  few  grow- 
ing districts  where  a  priest  could  live.  The  scat- 
tered inhabitants  here  and  there  were  Protestants 
from  Kentucky  and  Tennessee.  At  times  they 
came  across  a  Catholic  who  was  so  used  to  living 
away  from  priest  and  church  that  he  expressed 
himself  indifferent  to  the  coming  of  one  of  his 
clergymen.  He  feared  the  priest's  presence  would 
arouse  the  bigotry  of  the  neighbors.  Deepwater, 
one  of  the  Jesuit  missions,  was  a  promising  loca- 
tion. The  Catholics  were  made  up  exclusively  of 
a  German  colony  and  they  were  well  contented 
with  the  services  of  Jesuits  from  St.  Mary's,  and 
afterwards  from  the  mission  at  Osage  under  the 
supervision  of  Father  Schoenmacher.  Independ- 
ence looked  well  and  promised  a  future.  The  next 
village  that  met  their  eyes  was  Kanzas  on  the  Kan- 
zas  and  Missouri  Rivers.  They  returned  to  St. 
Louis  after  my  arrival.  I  was  raised  to  the  priest- 
hood in  1845.  I  requested  the  Bishop  to  permit 
me  to  visit  the  pastor  of  Old  Mines  for  a  few 
days  before  sending  me  on  my  mission.  He  kindly 
granted  the  request.  That  very  day  I  started  for 
Old  Mines.  I  borrowed  a  horse  from  a  friend  in 
St.  Louis  and  rode  there.  The  next  day  after  my 
arrival  a  letter  was  handed  me  from  his  Grace,  to 
go  without  delay  and  open  up  a  parish  at  Inde- 
pendence. I  mounted  my  horse  and  returned  to 
St.  Louis,  called  on  the  bishop  (he  was  not  made 
archbishop  until  1847)  and  with  my  letter  of  ap- 
pointment I  hurried  to  take  the  steamboat  which 
left  St.  Louis  that  afternoon  at  four  o'clock.  I 
found  the  boat  loaded  with  freight  and  over  two 
hundred  passengers.  Some  of  them  were  heading 
for  California,  others  were  going  anywhere  west 
to  grow  up  with  the  country.  Gamblers,  who  plied 
their  avocation  on  every  boat  heading  north,  south 
and  west  from   St.   Louis,   were   on   board.     They 


160       Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

were  the  most  prosperous-looking  passengers  on 
the  boat.  They  could  be  found  at  the  long  tables 
on  the  upper  cabin  all  day  except  while  meals  were 
being  served.  After  supper  they  resumed  their 
games  at  the  tables  and  played  late  into  the  night 
and  possibly  early  in  the  morning.  They  were 
flashily  dressed  with  a  great  display  of  watch 
chains,  and  their  finger  rings  were  valuable  with 
settings  of  diamonds.  They  were  always  quiet  and 
well  behaved.  They  evidently  did  not  seek  out 
their  victims,  for  men  flocked  to  the  cleared  tables 
without  invitation.  If  there  were  any  losers,  and 
there  undoubtedly  were,  the  losers  were  game  and 
kept  quiet.  After  seven  days  we  touched  the  land- 
ing at  Kanzas.  Although  we  were  impeded  in  our 
progress  by  sand  bars  three  different  times,  the 
trip  consumed  the  average  time. 

I  found  Father  Burke  awaiting  my  arrival, 
for  he  knew  a  priest  was  coming.  I  carried  a  let- 
ter of  introduction  to  Messrs.  Chouteau  and  Jarboe, 
Catholic  merchants  on  the  levee.  Independence 
was  my  destination.  Father  Burke,  his  companion 
and  I  procured  the  loan  of  a  horse  through  the 
kindness  of  the  two  merchants  and  in  less  than 
three  hours  from  my  arrival  were  on  our  way  to 
my  new  home.  We  dismounted  at  a  livery  stable 
and  handed  over  our  steeds  to  the  care  of  the  man 
in  charge.  I  then  faced  a  little  hotel  or  boarding 
house  where  we  registered.  That  evening  I  was 
introduced  to  three  different  Catholic  families, 
among  them  Mr.  Davy  and  his  sons  and  their 
wives.  Mr.  Davy  was  a  very  wealthy  merchant 
and  later  one  of  my  most  generous  parishioners. 
They  all  looked  at  me  as  if  in  astonishment:  A 
priest  to  reside  in  Independence?  Why,  they  had 
been  satisfactorily  attended  occasionally  by  the 
Jesuits.  They  hardly  believed  a  pastor  could  get 
a  support. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        161 

A  few  days,  and  I  was  nicely  ensconced  in  a 
well-furnished  room  in  the  house  of  a  newcomer 
to  Independence,   a   Catholic,   named   Gilson,   from 

St.  Louis. 

A  town  was  growing  on  the  river  a  few  miles 
away  which  was  a  "feeder"  and  landing  place  for 
Independence.  The  people  told  me  that  a  rivalry 
for  future  greatness  was  growing  between  Inde- 
pendence and  Kanzas  here  and  in  the  county. 

I  found  less  than  twenty  families  in  the  town 
and  immediately  surrounding  farms.  But  there 
was  a  vast  territory  from  here  to  the  end  of  my 
charge.  I  was  told  to  visit  at  intervals  from  the 
Kaw  to  Arkansas.  There  was  church  property  here 
willed  to  Independence  by  Bishop  Rosatti.  I  finally, 
after  many  appeals,  was  able  to  purchase  an  aban- 
doned carpenter  shop  for  a  church.  When  I  had 
the  little  church  ready  to  occupy — it  was  two  feet 
longer  than  the  church  given  by  Father  Le  Roux 
at  Kanzas — I  put  up  a  two-room  cottage  for  my- 
self. I  used  the  church  for  a  school  until  I  could 
erect  the  one-story  school  house.  As  I  could  not 
give  all  my  time  to  Independence,  I  hired  a  teacher, 
Miss  Mullins,  who  was  very  competent. 

Some  years  later  I  discovered  great  dissatis- 
faction among  the  Catholics  at  Kansas  City.  The 
church  building  did  not  suit  them  and  the  city  was 
growing  away  from  it.  For  the  second  time  they 
petitioned  the  archbishop  to  sell  the  ten-acre  lot 
and  the  church  erected  by  Father  Le  Roux  and 
put  the  price  in  a  fifty-foot  lot  and  unused  build- 
ing. I  offered  a  compromise.  I  suggested  that 
they  rent  an  empty  one-story  frame  house  near 
what  is  now  Cherry  and  Second  Streets.  This 
quieted  them.  We  temporarily  closed  the  log  church 
and  had  services  in  the  rented  building. 

When  I  saw  my  appeals  meeting  a  response,   I 
began  the  brick  building  on  the  east  line  of  the 


162        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

property  facing  Broadway.  We  had  the  corner- 
stone laid  on  the  first  Sunday  of  May,  1856.  The 
Definition  and  Promulgation  of  the  Doctrine  of  the 
Immaculate  Conception  gave  a  happy  and  timely 
name  for  the  new  church.  It  was  named  the 
Immaculate  Conception  Church.  The  name  St. 
Francis  Regis  was  not  given  by  Father  Le  Roux 
to  the  log  church.  Father  Le  Roux  never  gave  it 
a  patron.  It  was  called  by  him  and  his  people  the 
log  church ;  that  is  the  title  given  in  his  descrip- 
tion when  he  included  it  in  his  deed  to  the  bishop 
of  St.  Louis.  The  name  of  St.  Francis  Regis  was 
given  it  by  Father  De  Smet  when  the  mission  was 
handed  over  to  the  Jesuits.  Father  De  Smet  on 
his  way  from  the  far  West  stopped  over  with  me 
for  a  few  days.  I  met  him  at  the  Kanzas  City 
levee.  After  a  short  visit  at  the  home  of  the  Chou- 
teau family  we  rode  up  the  hills  to  the  church  site. 
It  was  while  sitting  in  the  little  church  cottage 
that  he  told  me  about  the  origin  of  its  name.  He 
smiled  as  he  related  that  the  thought  occurred  to 
him  that  the  chapel  needed  a  patron  and  he  could 
not  think  of  a  better  saint  to  watch  over  its  des- 
tinies, so  he  christened  it  St.  Francis  Regis.  He 
said  he  informed  the  bishop  of  St.  Louis  and  the 
Vice-Provincial,  who  both  said,  "Now  the  church 
is  complete — it  has  a  name  and  a  good  one." 

Westport  was  always  a  concern  of  mine.  I 
knew  it  when  it  was  a  waiting  place  for  the  thou- 
sands going  southwest  to  Santa  Fe,  and  to  the 
mountains,  and  the  gold  fields  of  California,  and 
Pike's  Peak.  Like  Independence,  Westport  was  a 
plateau.  It  was  higher  than  the  hills  back  of  Kan- 
sas City.  But  I  presume  Nature  had  done  too  much 
for  Westport  and  left  a  great  deal  for  the  people 
to  do  at  Kansas  City.  Westport  is  no  larger  today 
than  it  was  in  the  '50s  and  '40s.  The  only  future 
I  see  for  it  is  that  Kansas  City  will  throw  its  arms 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        163 

around  it  in  its  strides  southward  and  eastward 
and  annex  it.  It  will  make  a  beautiful  residence 
district  for  the  coming  giant  city  of  the  West. 
The  Jesuits  said  Mass  out  at  Westport,  as  did  many- 
priests  traveling  to  the  new  diocese  of  Santa  Fe. 
Masses  were  usually  said  in  tents,  occasionally  in 
the  home  of  Mr.  Dillon.  Westport  was  for  many 
years  a  pleasant  resting  place  for  the  priests  and 
people  awaiting  Uncle  Sam's  arrival  to  take  them 
under  his  protection  as  they  wandered  through  the 
country  of  hostile  enemies.  It  was  only  a  few  years 
ago  that  Bishop  Lamy  of  Santa  Fe,  while  traveling 
in  a  cavalcade  of  ox-carts  and  on  ponies,  was  at- 
tacked by  the  Indians.  He  had  with  him  eight  or 
ten  young  priests,  and  a  number  of  Sisters  of  Char- 
ity from  Cincinnati,  going  to  open  up  schools.  The 
bishop  had  had  experience  of  what  might  happen 
and  made  provision  for  the  possible  contingency 
He  had  purchased  shotguns  and  ammunition  at 
Cincinnati.  While  he  waited  at  Westport  he  prac- 
ticed shooting  with  his  young  clerical  friends.  He 
told  them  what  would  likely  come.  "The  Indians 
will  like  you  better  if  you  stand  your  ground  and 
shoot  back.  If  you  run  away  they  will  follow  and 
shoot  you  sure."  The  Indians  did  attack  them. 
The  bishop  formed  the  wagons  into  breastworks 
and  did  some  straight  shooting,  and  finally  sent 
the  Indians  flying  to  their  tents  and  hiding  places. 
One  of  the  young  Sisters  died  on  the  battlefield. 
She  was  suffering  from  chronic  heart  disease  and 
dropped  dead  at  the  first  volley. 

There  never  was  a  chapel  or  church  at  West- 
port,  and  the  two  occasions  I  said  Mass  there  I 
officiated  in  the  home  of  Mr.  Dillon,  a  local  mer- 
chant in  the  harness  business.  The  Archbishop  of 
Santa  Fe  and  Bishop  Maschboeuf,  his  former  Vicar- 
General,  now  Bishop  of  Denver,  and  the  priests 
escorting  them  said  Mass  under  tents.     They  made 


164        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

the  same  use  of  them  frequently  as  they  journeyed 
home.  On  one  occasion  I  visited  the  bishop  of 
Santa  Fe  as  he  tarried  at  Westport.  He  had  with 
him  four  elegantly  attired  priests  who  left  their 
native  France  to  do  missionary  work  in  New  Mex- 
ico. I  observed  them  going  about  in  the  best  ap- 
parel of  Paris.  They  wore  silk  stockings  and  costly 
leggings.  Their  coats  were  of  rich  material  and 
their  hats  were  high  and  of  the  latest  New  York 
style.  Their  rest  here  gave  them  a  chance  to 
parade  in  their  very  best.  It  was  their  last  chance. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  shine  of  their  hats  and  the 
richness  of  their  attire  that  drove  the  Indians  to 
make  the  murderous  attack.  Many  a  man  I  saw 
approaching  the  far  West  dressed  in  a  metropoli- 
tan's finest,  who  in  a  little  while  was  glad  to  wear 
the  red  shirt  and  belt  and  leather  pantaloons. 

I  purchased  in  my  own  name  the  first  piece 
of  property  in  Westport  intended  for  church  pur- 
poses. I  have  deeded  it  over  to  the  archbishop. 
On  this  property  is  a  one-story  building  occupied 
as  a  residence.  The  parlor  is  used  for  a  chaoel  on 
Sundays  for  saying  Mass.  I  witnessed  myself,  and 
every  priest  who  ever  officiated  there  on  Sunday 
tells  me,  that  the  little  room  is  never  filled.  I  am 
confident  a  church,  probably  churches,  will  dot  the 
grown-up  Westport.  Kansas  City  has  to  grow;  its 
natural  and  sure  tendency  will  be  to  the  south. 
Kansas  City  will  make  a  ward  or  many  wards  out 
of  Westport. 

Father  Halpin  was  an  ex-Jesuit  who  left  the 
Society  and  was  appointed  my  assistant.  He  took 
the  lay  of  the  land  and  soon  went  to  St.  Louis  and 
came  back  pastor  of  a  new  parish  on  the  east 
of  Main  Street — St.  Patrick's.  Father  Archer  suc- 
ceeded him,  and  then  came  Father  Dunn.  The 
first  site  of  the  new  St.  Patrick's  was  sold  and  a 
new  and  more  desirable  one  selected.     I  had  the 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        165 

honor  of  laying  the  cornerstone  on  the  new  site. 
I  laid  the  cornerstone  of  the  new  church  and  mon- 
astery of  the  Redemptorists,  out  near  Westport, 
also  the  cornerstone  of  the  new  and  spacious  orphan 
asylum.  The  Annunciation  Parish  was  started  by 
its  present  young  pastor  on  the  first  Sunday  of 
July,  1872.  A  hospital  on  Seventh  and  Prospect 
has  just  been  opened.  A  large  graveyard  is  bought 
and  paid  for  and  has  been  in  use  for  nearly  two 
years.  People  say  it  is  too  far  out.  The  time 
will  come  when  they  will  say  Mount  St.  Mary's 
Cemetery  is  too  far  inside  the  limits,  that  it  should 
be  closed  and  another  one  procured.  I  will  not  live 
to  see  it.  Kansas  City  in  church  and  civic  pros- 
pects has  a  wonderful  future. 

My  fingers  are  getting  stiff  from  writing  and 
I  am  becoming  garrulous,  even  if  I  am  playing 
historian. 

Yours  Anon, 

B.  Donnelly. 

THIRD  LETTER  OF  FATHER  DONNELLY. 
Rev.  Editor: 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  your  readers  and  help- 
ful to  the  future  historian  of  the  Church  in  and 
around  Kansas  City  to  give  the  names  of  the 
priests  who  have  officiated  at  Westport.  Father 
Gross,  the  first  pastor  of  Sts.  Peter  and  Paul's 
Church,  attended  Westport  every  second  Sunday. 
He  did  so  at  the  order  of  the  archbishop.  In  fact 
he  made  his  home  out  there  for  a  few  weeks  but 
did  his  Sunday  work  at  Kansas  City,  saying  Mass 
here  for  his  people  and  giving  them  opportunity 
to  receive  the  Sacraments.  Father  Muehlsiepen, 
the  Vicar  General  for  the  Germans  in  the  St.  Louis 
archiepiscopal  see,  did  not  approve  of  his  living 
at  Westport  and  came  here  and  induced  him  to 
return  to  Kansas  City.     Father  Halpin's  assistant 


166        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

at  St.  Patrick's  then  said  Mass  at  Westport  for  a 
few  months,  when  Father  Michael  Walsh  of  St. 
Louis  was  appointed  resident  pastor.  He  re- 
mained in  charge  for  six  months.  He  organized 
the  congregation  and  had  excavations  for  a  church 
50x120  feet  when  he  was  called  back  to  St.  Louis 
to  assist  my  old  friend,  Father  Henry  of  St.  Law- 
rence O'Toole's  parish.  The  successor  to  Father 
Walsh  was  Father  James  Douherty,  who  for  some 
little  time  had  been  assistant  to  Father  Hennessy 
at  St.  Joseph.  On  the  consecration  of  the  latter 
as  Bishop  Hennessy  of  Dubuque,  he  became  pastor. 
When  St.  Joseph  was  made  a  see  Father  Douherty 
acted  as  rector  for  a  few  months.  He  soon  re- 
quested that  he  be  allowed  to  return  to  the  arch- 
diocese. It  was  then  he  came  to  Westport.  He 
started  out  by  reducing  the  size  of  the  contem- 
plated church  at  Westport.  While  living  here  he 
accepted  my  hospitality.  By  assiduous  efforts  he 
raised  considerable  money  collecting  along  the 
Fort  Scott  Railroad  among  the  men  working  on  its 
construction.  He  finished  the  walls  and  roof  of 
the  church.  On  the  tenth  of  January,  1872,  he 
was  made  pastor  of  the  Annunciation  Church  in 
St.  Louis.  He  reported  a  debt  on  the  Westport 
Church  of  $3,500.00 — another  weight  placed  on 
my  shoulders.  I  had  bought  and  paid  for  the 
Westport  Church  property  myself  and  now  the 
creditors  looked  to  me  to  pay  this  debt.  As  the 
archbishop  refused  to  send  another  pastor  there  I 
felt  this  new  obligation  was  mine  and  assumed  it. 
After  repeated  letters  to  St.  Louis  I  was  told  that 
the  young  pastor  of  the  Annunciation  Church  in 
the  West  Bottoms  would  be  given  an  assistant  who 
would  at  least  say  Mass  every  Sunday  at  Westport. 
By  way  of  digression  let  me  say  that  the  Annun- 
ciation pastor,  our  editor  of  the  Banner,  was  liv- 
ing on  Liberty  Street  in  a  room  8x10.     He  divided 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        167 

up  with  his  assistant,  and  had  at  least  the  comfort 
of  youth  and  health  and  pluck.  His  assistant  was 
Father  Michael  McKin,  many  years  his  senior  and 
partly  broken  in  health.  We  three  formed  a  com- 
bination and  went  soliciting  along  the  railroads 
and  among  some  of  the  well  to  do  people  of  Kan- 
sas City.  In  a  little  while  we  had  the  debt  down 
to  $2,500.00.  I  then  paid  off  that  sum,  leaving 
me  little  of  my  savings.  After  Father  McKin  left 
here  to  become  the  first  pastor  of  Joplin,  another 
assistant  alternated  with  his  rector,  Father  Dalton, 
in  visiting  Westport.  When  in  1874  Father  Dal- 
ton gave  up  the  Westport  charge,  it  was  handed 
over  to  Father  Dunn  at  St.  Patrick's.  His  assistant, 
Father  Cooney,  was  regular  in  his  work  there. 
Once  more  and  for  the  last  time  it  was  decided 
Westport  was  too  far  to  work  in,  and  its  connec- 
tion with  Kansas  City  ceased.  All  this  time,  the 
new  church  was  untenanted.  Father  Douherty 
left  it  without  doors,  windows  or  floors,  so  Mass 
was  always  said  in  the  long-drawn-out  one-story 
frame  building.  I  repeat,  Westport  will  yet  be 
heard  from.  The  Redemptorist  Fathers  are  not 
far  away.  They  have  opened  up  their  convenient 
chapel  for  Westport  and  the  surrounding  territory. 
When  the  Redemptorists  came  here  it  was  with  the 
understanding  that  their  time  and  their  buildings 
would  be  solely  for  the  education  and  training  of 
young  men  for  their  congregation.  Their  grounds 
are  large  and  afford  health  and  recreation  for 
their  evergrowing  number  of  young  students  and 
professors.  The  advance  of  civic  progress  will  in 
a  while  demand  a  more  secluded  site  for  the  novi- 
tiate and  house  of  studies  and  their  work  will  be  the 
labor  of  a  great  parish. 

For  thirty-five  years  I  have  found  good  diges- 
tion and  plenty  to  do  inside  the  lines  of  home  and 
parochial  duty.     My  farthest  trip  in  all  this  time 


168        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

was  to  journey  to  Quincy  to  the  Monastery  of  the 
Franciscan  Fathers  where  there  was  a  reunion  of 
my  classmates  at  the  Barrens,  and  when  the  few 
of  us  left  celebrated  our  Silver  Jubilee.  Just  three 
responded  to  the  call — every  one  of  the  others 
had  gone  to  his  last  home.  I  reached  Quincy  about 
eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  saying  farewell 
to  my  two  old  comrades  I  left  for  Kansas  City  at 
seven  o'clock  that  same  evening.  I  attended  two 
annual  retreats.  I  was  present  at  the  consecration 
of  Father  Ryan  as  Bishop  Co-ad jutor  to  Arch- 
bishop Kenrick.  Three  times  I  was  present  at  the 
retreats  of  the  priests  of  the  St.  Louis  diocese  in 
the  house  of  my  old  professors,  the  Lazarist 
Fathers,  in  the  Church  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul. 
During  those  early  years  I  did  not  hug  the  com- 
forts of  my  little  cabins  here  and  at  Independence. 
Three  times  on  horseback  I  traversed  the  almost 
solitary  country  from  Jackson  County  to  the 
Arkansas  line.  I  did  not  find  many  Catholics  on 
those  trips,  and  they,  as  a  body,  seemed  to  have 
grown  cold  in  the  Faith.  I  have  learned  that 
Kansas  City  will  soon  be  the  home  of  a  bishop.  A 
passing  bishop  going  home  from  St.  Louis  where 
the  bishops  of  the  Province  had  gathered  to  lay 
out  a  new  diocese  showed  me  the  map  of  the  new 
see.  Except  for  Father  Hammil's  parish  and 
Sedalia  and  the  mission  on  the  eastern  side  of  the 
contemplated  diocese,  my  mission  covers  the  area 
of  the  future  bishop  and  his  priests. 

After  three  complete  circuits  of  my  missionary 
field  I  grew  serious  and  began  to  feel  that  if  life 
is  worth  living  a  man  ought  to  take  care  of  his 
health,  that  long  journeys  with  very  indifferent 
results,  if  any,  and  days  and  nights  of  exposure  to 
the  weather  and  sleeping  on  the  highways  with 
my  saddle  for  a  pillow  were  not  good  for  men  of 
my  increasing  years.     The  gentle  pastor  of  Deep- 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        169 

water,  and  the  good-natured  Father  Hammil,  and 
Father  Walsh  of  Jefferson  City,  kindly  relieved 
me  of  any  more  such  endurances.  I  had  plenty 
to  do  at  Kansas  City  and  Independence. 

Although  a  poor  visitor  myself  I  had  the  ex- 
treme pleasure  of  entertaining  many  persons.  The 
great  Senator  Benton  did  me  the  honor  of  a  call 
while  in  Independence.  Governor  Gilpin  who  in- 
vited the  Senator  to  Jackson  County  and  who  lis- 
tened to  his  predictions  of  Kansas  City's  certain 
greatness,  was  my  neighbor  in  Independence.  He 
was  a  man  of  culture,  well  read  in  the  Latin  and 
Greek  classics.  He  spoke  French  fluently  and  had 
traveled  abroad  extensively.  He  lived  in  the  West 
and  loved  its  plains  and  mountains.  He  predicted 
that  the  Territory  of  Kanzas  which  fed  thousands 
and  thousands  of  buffaloes  and  other  wild  animals 
would  yet  feed  and  make  rich  thousands  of  farm- 
ers and  commercial  men.  He  climbed  the  moun- 
tains of  Colorado  before  the  gold  mines  of  Pike's 
Peak  were  opened  up,  and  he  wrote  of  the  healing 
balmy  climate  of  that  country,  advertising  it 
everywhere.  He  afterwards  held  a  position  of 
honor  under  the  government  in  that  mountain  land 
before  it  became  a  state.  No  man  before  or  since 
predicted  so  lavishly  of  Kansas  City.  Many  an 
evening  and  late  in  the  night  he  visited  me  in  my 
humble  home  and  I  returned  his  calls.  His  well 
stocked  library  was  at  my  disposal  and  from  its 
shelves  I  conned  much  useful  lore  and  renewed  my 
acquaintance  with  many  loved  authors.  General 
Harney,  when  the  quiet  of  peace  would  permit  it, 
would  turn  his  face  to  his  St.  Louis  home,  always 
dropping  in  to  see  me  and  tell  me  about  the  In- 
dians, and  keep  me  posted  on  the  politics  of  Wash- 
ington, and  the  country  at  large.  He  was  a  man 
of  commanding  figure,  over  six  feet  four  inches 
tall.    He  was  the  ranking  officer  in  the  army  close 


170        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

to  General  Scott.  He  knew  the  Civil  War  was  com- 
ing and  regretted  it  very  much  J  last  saw  him 
after  President  Lincoln  ordered  him  to  St.  Louis. 
Senator  Lane  of  Kansas  was  my  friend,  as  was 
General  Curtis,  and  good  General  "Pap"  Price.  I 
learned  much  about  the  war  when  it  was  in  pro- 
gress from  those  men.  I  was  on  the  battlefield  of 
Westport  during  three  days  of  conflict.  They  al- 
lowed me  all  the  privileges  of  the  scene  of  carn- 
age. I  was  the  chaplain  on  both  sides,  with  writ- 
ten permission  to  visit  their  wounded  and  help 
bury  their  dead.  I  found  hospitals  in  Westport, 
Independence  and  Kansas  City  for  the  wounded  in 
the  homes  of  the  kindly  people  of  those  little 
towns.  Archbishop  Kenrick  visited  me  when  he 
came  for  confirmation.  Once  too,  when  he  called 
on  Father  Meurs  at  Glasgow,  and  when  he  dedi- 
cated the  new  Cathedral  at  Leavenworth.  Bishop 
Barron  paid  me  the  courtesy  of  a  two  days'  visit 
on  his  way  to  St.  Mary's  mission,  and  once  when 
he  confirmed  in  the  old  log  church.  He  was  a  very 
learned  man,  a  priest  of  Philadelphia,  and  suc- 
ceeded Peter  Richard  Kenrick  as  rector  and  pro- 
fessor of  theology  in  the  seminary  at  Philadelphia. 
He  was  consecrated  Bishop  of  Liberia.  His  sojourn 
there  impaired  his  health,  and  he  returned  to  the 
United  States  on  his  resignation.  He  aided  Bishop 
Francis  P.  Kenrick  in  his  laborious  work  in  Penn- 
sylvania. He  then  came  to  St.  Louis  where  he  did 
the  work  of  an  assistant  bishop,  doing  all  the  visita- 
tions and  confirmations  outside  that  city.  He  paid 
visits  to  the  Jesuit  missions  at  Kickapoo,  near 
Leavenworth,  to  St.  Mary's,  and  southeast  Kansas. 
He  died  of  yellow  fever  while  helping  Bishop  Gart- 
land  in  the  South.  One  of  my  dearest  friends  and 
visitors  was  James  Duggan,  afterwards  Bishop  of 
Chicago,  and  previous  to  that  coadjutor  bishop  of 
St.  Louis.     For  a  few  years  before  his  ordination 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        171 

as  a  priest  he  spent  his  vacations  with  me.  He 
would  bring  his  gun  with  him  and  day  after  day 
would  traverse  the  neighboring  hills  and  plains  in 
search  of  fowl.  He  was  a  trained  shot  and  kept 
my  larder  filled  with  the  result  of  his  markman- 
ship.  He  was  a  handsome,  intelligent  young  man. 
His  trips  West  were  a  recreation  that  the  physi- 
cians of  St.  Louis  prescribed  for  him.  Although 
athletic  in  walking,  running  and  jumping,  there 
was  a  latent  infirmity  that  afterwards  made  him 
an  invalid. 

Many  a  day  I  walked  to  the  steamboat  land- 
ing to  shake  the  hands  of  Captain  Chouteau  and 
Captain  La  Barge.  Bishop  Miege,  S.  J.,  the  first 
resident  Bishop  in  Kansas,  was  a  typical  Indian 
missionary,  a  man  of  letters,  with  a  gentle,  kindly 
heart.  He  resigned  his  high  honors  to  go  back  to 
his  Jesuit  society.  The  real  old-fashioned  latch, 
the  only  protection  and  means  of  opening  and  clos- 
ing my  front  door,  responded  to  the  touch  of  com- 
ing and  going  Fathers  from  West  and  North.  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  welcoming  the  first  Benedic- 
tines on  their  way  to  Kansas,  and  took  the  liberty 
of  telling  them  their  ultimate  home  would  be 
Atchison. 

Let  me  tell  you,  my  dear  editor,  this  thing  of 
writing  so  long  and  cudgelling  my  memory  is  no 
easy  job,  besides  you  know  the  frost  of  other  days 
has  made  the  joints  of  my  fingers  stiff,  almost 
numb.  God  bless  your  paper,  the  Banner,  and 
God  bless  you  for  giving  me  a  chance  to  live  with 
fiiends  of  other  days. 

Anon, 

B.  Donnelly. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
FATHER  DONNELLY,  THE  MAN. 


XN  stature  Father  Donnelly  stood  about  five 
feet  six  inches  tall.  His  features  were 
strong  and  prominent  and  his  complexion 
in  health  ruddy.  His  shoulders  were  un- 
usually wide  and  his  frame  well  knitted,  showing 
great  physical  strength.  He  was  a  very  counter- 
part in  physical  structure  of  his  friend,  Father 
De  Smet.  It  is  said  of  Father  De  Smet  that  when 
a  young  man  in  the  novitiate  near  St.  Charles  the 
work  he  did  in  lifting  and  carrying  on  his  shoul- 
ders trunks  and  limbs  of  trees  would  equal  what 
we  read  in  legendary  lore  of  giants,  or  what  we 
see  done  today  in  circuses  and  shows  by  the  strong 
man.  But  the  strong  man,  the  athlete  of  today,  is 
old  and  broken  at  thirty-five  years.  Father  Don- 
nelly, like  Father  De  Smet,  did  not  break  or  bend 
under  his  great  feats,  and  those  feats  were  not  at 
long  intervals,  but  every  little  while.  Father  Don- 
nelly would  take  his  share  at  lifting  or  moving 
large  slabs  of  stone,  and  always  insisted  that  he 
should  be  alone  on  his  side  of  the  stone.  His  awk- 
wardness on  horseback  as  he  rode  the  first  time 
from  Kansas  City  Landing  to  Independence  soon 
disappeared.  He  in  a  short  while  mastered  his 
horse  and  many  a  time  offered  his  services  to  break 
in  unruly  and  bucking  animals  unused  to  saddle  or 
harness.  He  often  mounted  on  strong-jawed  west- 
ern horses  and  would  cry  out  a  dare  to  wager  that 
the  beast  would  not  dislodge  his  tall  stove-pipe  hat. 
That  hat  and  Father  seemed  inseparable.  He  wore 
it  in  all  weathers  and  everywhere  except  in  the 
Sanctuary  and  on  the  church  grounds.  But  even 
then  while  preaching  he  would  sometimes  have  the 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        173 

hat  brought  to  him  and  would  hold  it  in  his  right 
hand  as  he  emphasized  his  remarks  or  gesticulated. 
He  was  gifted  with  a  wonderful  force  of  character 
and  aggressive  to  a  remarkable  degree.  He  had 
all  his  faculties  under  perfect  control. 

His  daily  walks  were  long  and  uninterrupted 
except  to  speak  to  some  passerby  about  the  weather 
or  prospects  of  the  coming  greatness  of  the  city 
or  country.  The  man  digging  in  the  streets  or  the 
foundations  of  buildings,  or  in  the  field,  would 
attract  him  as  the  magnet  does  the  steel.  He  had 
to  view  and  suggest  how  the  workman  might  im- 
prove his  style  or  method  of  handling  shovel  or 
pick.  He  would  often  take  the  tool  from  the  labor- 
er's hand  and  give  him  a  demonstration  of  how 
speed  and  efficiency  might  result.  A  house  in 
course  of  erection  would  make  him  go  out  of  his 
way.  The  materials  would  be  carefully  examined, 
the  price  of  the  edifice  would  be  discussed,  and 
then  the  history  of  the  original  purchase  of  the 
property  and  the  various  transfers  from  the  gov- 
ernment ownership.  The  civil  engineer  would  as- 
sert itself  in  him  and  he  would  step  off  the  front 
and  rear  of  the  property  and  wind  up  by  telling 
the  square  yards  in  it,  and  the  cubic  feet  of  the 
dislodged  earth.  He  found  his  way  regularly  to 
where  a  hill  impeded  a  projected  street  and  the 
next  man  he  met  would  have  to  listen  to  the  time 
it  would  take  to  tear  down  the  hill  and  what  it 
would  cost  to  do  so,  the  number  of  dirt  wagons  it 
would  fill  and  the  time  required  by  a  given  number 
of  laborers  to  do  the  work.  He  was  personally 
acquainted  with  every  contractor,  many  of  them 
had  secured  their  contracts  through  his  influence 
with  the  city  officials,  and  the  very  men  swinging 
the  picks  and  shoveling  were  brought  here  by  him. 
As  those  men  were  all  Catholics  and  his  parish- 
ioners   he    rounded   his    conversation    by    advising 


174       Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

them  about  their  religious  duties  and  with  em- 
phasis would  tell  them,  "My  men,  your  greatest 
danger  is  strong  drink  and  your  only  chance  of 
success  in  life  is  to  keep  out  of  saloons."  When 
he  heard  that  any  of  them  were  indulging  too  much, 
he  would  urge  them  to  take  Father  Mathew's  pledge 
immediately.  He  would  remove  his  hat,  order  the 
men  to  uncover  and  lift  their  hands  and  repeat 
the  words  of  the  temperance  pledge.  Then  he 
would  take  their  names  and  homes  or  boarding 
places,  and  hasten  to  tell  the  employer  that  the  poor 
fellows  would  be  straight  for  the  future.  Many 
a  time  he  would  appear  at  some  shop  or  place  where 
weak  men  were  laboring,  take  their  week's  wage 
from  them  and  bring  it  to  their  wives  and  families, 
or  put  it  away  for  them  in  some  secure  bank.  He 
did  not  wait  for  Sunday  to  teach  his  people  indus- 
try and  saving  habits,  but  did  his  preaching  when- 
ever he  met  them.  He  was  always  moving  around 
where  good  might  be  done.  He  never  tired  of 
teaching  a  love  for  the  foreigner's  new  country; 
he  was  forever  extolling  the  advantages  of  Amer- 
ica. "Help  your  poor  friends  in  dear  old  Ireland, 
induce  them  to  come  here,  and  talk  less  and  dream 
less  of  the  old  country,  and  never  tire  of  looking 
up  the  opportunities  before  you  in  the  broad  fields 
of  America.  You  were  farmers  in  Ireland,  and 
keep  your  eyes  on  your  first  trade;  put  something 
by  and  become  farmers.  The  country  life  in  Amer- 
ica is  ideal."  He  sought  out  opportunities  to  pur- 
chase farms  and  would  tell  the  cost  price,  as  well 
as  what  was  the  most  productive  land.  Jackson 
County  was  his  first  choice,  but  the  new  agricul- 
tural country  over  in  Kansas  was  good  and  very 
cheap.  He  induced  a  colony  of  new  arrivals  here 
to  purchase  a  large  district  near  the  Missouri  River 
where  they  flourished  and  grew  rich.  He  would 
ride  over  to  see  them  occasionally  and  encourage 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        175 

and  advise  them  as  to  the  newest  and  best  methods 
of  farm  production.  That  colony  was  ever  after- 
wards thanking  him,  and  in  the  great  procession 
which  followed  his  remains  to  St.  Mary's  Cem- 
etery they  formed  a  large  and  conspicuous  part, 
they  swelled  the  mourning  ranks. 

Father  Donnelly  was  always  loyal  to  the  land 
of  his  forefathers.  He  loved  its  scenery,  he  would 
picture  its  rivers,  its  many  streams  of  clear  water, 
its  beautiful  lakes.  Its  soil,  he  ever  maintained, 
was  unequaled  the  world  over.  But  the  blight  of 
tyranny  hung  over  Ireland.  The  prospects  of  a 
Free  Ireland  did  not  appear  promising  if  at  all 
possible.  He  was  very  matter-of-fact  and  would 
reason  that  it  is  better  to  live  untrammeled  in 
America  and  keep  living  than  to  die  trying  to  free 
Ireland.  He  said  on  one  public  occasion  that  it  was 
more  praiseworthy  and  more  sensible  to  free  Ire- 
land by  inducing  its  people  to  come  in  a  body  to 
America  than  to  remain  in  suffering  and  in  want 
fighting  against  the  mighty  odds  and  the  infernal 
cruelty  of  the  English  Government.  "Fate,"  he 
would  continue,  "is  as  relentlessly  cruel  to  Ireland 
as  is  its  brutish  oppressor.  Don't  go  to  Heaven 
as  a  martyr — come  to  America,  and  when  you  die 
go  to  God  as  a  saint.  The  fevers  and  the  famines 
and  the  weather  as  well  are  all  against  our  Mother- 
land." In  the  '70s  and  '80s  Ireland  was  visited  with 
frequent  loss  of  crops,  and  appeals  to  America  were 
met  by  generous  response. 

Such  sentiments,  freely  and  boldly  expressed, 
brought  forth  many  criticisms  and  made  many  of 
his  countrymen  think  of  Father  Donnelly  as  one 
who  did  not  love  his  native  land.  "My  native  land 
was  not  so  kind  to  me  as  I  am  helpful  to  it,"  he 
would  reply.  He  seems  to  have  sided  with  the 
Young  Irelands  of  1847.  Some  of  the  leaders  were 
of  his  time  and  age.     He  sent  liberally  in  answer 


176        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

to  the  appeals  made  in  America.     He  lived  to  call 
the   results   of  the   uprising   a   "fizzle"— not   even 
worth  the  money  America  alone  sent  to   its  help 
and  success.     Before  that  time  and  ever  after,  he 
was  a  great  admirer  of  Daniel  O'Connell  and  his 
methods  of  peaceful  protest.     When  the  Fenians' 
fight  for  the  freedom  of  Ireland  was  heralded  he 
turned  a  deaf  ear,  and  by  way  of  change,  some- 
times a  very  bitter  tongue  against  England  and  the 
Fenians.    All  new  efforts  against  England  for  Ire- 
land's good,  down  to  the  Parnell  Movement,  were 
looked  at  askance  and  with  indifference.    He  openly 
and,  in  some  New  York  correspondence,  in  many 
letters  said  unfriendly  things  against  the  Fenian 
agitators.    "They  are,"  he  writes,  in  the  New  York 
Times,  "the  most  modern.     Their  end  will  be  the 
usual  fight  on  each  other.     Tell  the  Irish  to  come 
over  and  go  to  work  and  grow  up  with  this  coun- 
try."    He  certainly  was  true  to  this  principle.     No 
man,   at  least  west  of  the   Ohio,   did  so  much   in 
inducing  his   countrymen   to   leave   home   for   our 
shores.      A    firm    of    Irishmen    in    St.    Louis,    the 
O'Brien  Brothers,  kept  the  Missouri  Pacific  Rail- 
road growing  westward  by  supplying  Irish  laborers. 
They  sent  Father  Donnelly  a  New  Year's  gift  in 
1857  and  wrote  to  him  and  had  printed  in  the  St. 
Louis  Republic  about  the  same  time,  that  Father 
Donnelly  induced  more  Irishmen  to  come  from  Ire- 
land to  Missouri  than  they  themselves  had. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
HIS  LIBRARY. 


HONG  before  Father  Donnelly  left  his  native 
land  never  to  return  he  was  conversant 
with  American  history  and  geography.  He 
had  on  his  person  a  copy  of  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States.  He  purchased  it  in  Ire- 
land on  his  first  visit  to  Dublin  when  he  was  a 
young  student.  It  was  printed  at  Boston  in  the 
year  1816.  He  had  read  it  and  reread  it  until  he 
knew  it  by  heart.  His  reading  made  him  familiar 
with  the  lives  of  Washington  and  the  signers  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  also  the  biog- 
raphies of  American  jurists,  generals  and  states- 
men. Lincoln,  Douglas,  Clay,  Calhoun,  and  Benton 
he  greatly  admired  and  could  discuss  their  sayings 
and  repeat  passages  from  their  speeches.  The  his- 
tory of  the  various  states  from  the  Pilgrim  landing 
to  the  new  state  of  Kansas  was  at  the  tips  of  his 
fingers.  He  put  America  first  among  the  nations. 
It  was  his  new,  his  beloved  country.  He  would 
on  every  possible  occasion  urge  his  countrymen  to 
love  their  new  country  and  be  true  to  it. 

Father  Donnelly  carried  a  greater  supply  of 
useful  and  high-grade  knowledge  in  his  later  years 
than  in  younger  days,  for  he  was  always  adding 
to  his  store  and  trying  never  to  forget  by  con- 
stantly keeping  up  an  acquaintance  with  everything 
new  in  science,  history  and  art.  Protoplasms,  neb- 
ular theories,  new  and  startling  ventures  in  the 
field  of  philosophy,  spiritism,  all  that  the  best  mag- 
azines of  the  '60s  and  '70s  and  the  newest  books  in 
literature  were  sending  forth,  were  conned  over, 
reread  and  pondered.  He  believed  in  security  first 
and  as  a  lever  to  keep  himself  properly  balanced 


178       Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

he  kept  at  his  elbow  his  dear  old  St.  Thomas,  and 
Kenrick's,  Gury's,  and  Perrone's  theologies.  When 
treatise  after  treatise  on  ontology  fell  under  the 
scrutinizing  eye  of  Rome  he  would  say,  "I  wish  the 
Holy  Father  would  cut  out  all  philosophical  class- 
books  in  our  schools  and  put  in  their  stead  St. 
Thomas  of  Aquin."  His  prayer  was  heard,  but  his 
hearing  was  closed  in  death  a  little  while  before. 
In  literature  he  loved  Moore  and  quoted  from  him 
as  he  did  from  Virgil  and  Horace.  The  American 
poets  were  dear  to  his  heart  and  frequently  on  his 
lips.  Bishop  Martin  Spalding  he  believed  sur- 
passed all  the  Church  writers  in  America,  for  his 
writings  appealed  to  the  people  and  were  educa- 
tional. The  Boston  Pilot  was  a  weekly  visitor  in 
his  home  and  its  columns  held  many  a  contribution 
by  him.  But  the  Catholic  editors  he  rated  the  high- 
est were  Dr.  Brownson,  McMaster  of  the  Freeman's 
Journal  and  Father  Phelan  of  the  Western  Watch- 
man. He  often  found  fault  with  them,  but_  he 
would  amend  his  criticisms  in  a  moment  by  saying, 
"They  are  par  excellence  the  bravest  and  ablest 
defenders  of  the  Church  in  America." 

In  the  pulpit  Father  Donnelly  excelled  as  a 
plain,  thorough  expositor  of  the  Gospels.  He  evi- 
dently prepared  himself  for  his  Sunday  sermons. 
His  language  was  simple  and  his  words  were  short 
and  Anglo-Saxon.  He  carefully  avoided  the  verbi- 
age of  the  Irish  sermon  books.  "It's  not  English 
at  all,  but  a  turning  of  words  from  Latin  to  English 
endings.  Avoid  the  books  of  sermons  from  abroad ; 
they  have  long  words  by  men  who  finished  their 
English  courses  in  Spain,  Rome,  Douay,  and  Lou- 
vain.  The  adults  of  your  parish  do  not  know  the 
meaning  of  these  words  and  the  younger  genera- 
tion will  think  you  are  speaking  a  foreign  tongue. 
Study,  young  man,  the  works  of  Addison  and  Steele. 
Keep  away  from  the  un-English  translations  from 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        179 

the  French  and  Spanish  done  by  French  and  Span- 
ish writers,  they  will  injure  your  style  of  expres- 
sion and  fall  upon  the  unwilling  and  unreceptive 
ears  of  the  American  listeners." 

In  his  spiritual  devotions  Father  Donnelly  was 
regular  and  frequent.  He  sought  the  inside  of  the 
railing  of  the  Sanctuary  to  pray  his  daily  rosary, 
and  he  might  be  found  any  forenoon  at  ten  o'clock 
reciting  the  parts  of  his  office  and  again  at  six 
p.  m.  It  was  only  when  the  weather  was  too  cold 
that  he  turned  from  the  Sanctuary  to  the  slight 
comfort  of  his  sitting-room.  The  church  stove  was 
never  lighted  except  on  Sundays  and  holy  days  of 
obligation.  No  church  in  Kansas  City  up  to  Father 
Donnelly's  demise  ever  had  a  fire  on  week  days. 
Steam,  hot  water,  hot  air  furnaces,  were  unknown 
outside  of  St.  Louis,  and  few  of  the  churches  there 
had  the  comfort  of  heat  except  on  Sunday.  While 
in  his  study  and  within  the  church  property,  and 
when  not  in  his  quarry  or  brickyard  nearby,  he 
might  be  seen  with  cassock  and  beretta,  or,  as  he 
persistently  called  it,  bonicari — he  remembered  that 
name  from  his  seminary  days.  In  ceremonies  of 
the  Sanctuary  he  was  most  tenacious  of  his  train- 
ing at  the  Barrens.  His  Italian  and  French  pro- 
fessors there  were  his  models  in  many  ways.  "Were 
there  no  other  priests  there  in  your  day?"  he  was 
asked.  "Oh,  yes,  there  were,  but  they  were  usually 
busy  on  the  outside.  They  figured  in  the  long  sick 
calls  and  in  parish  work."  The  Vincentians'  mis- 
sions went  from  Perry  County,  Missouri,  down 
through  the  vast  Territory  and  State  of  Texas. 
This  would  make  him  reminiscent,  and  he  would 
recount  the  hardships  and  apostolic  zeal  of  the  old 
professors  and  priests  of  the  Barrens.  He  put 
them  on  a  par  with  the  Jesuits  of  the  West.  "But 
the  great  and  tireless  Jesuits  died  in  their  Society. 
The  Lazarists  were  losing  their  ablest  men  in  the 


180        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

sciences  and  the  most  zealous  in  the  missions,  by 
promotion  to  the  mitre.  They  never  sought  the 
honors  of  the  episcopate — they  were  forced  on  them 
by  the  Holy  See.  But  the  Jesuits  in  the  case  of 
De  Smet,  when  he  was  selected  by  Rome  on  one  or 
two  occasions  for  the  mitre,  worked  matters  with 
the  Propaganda  at  Rome  to  retain  him."  Bishops 
Odin,  Rosatti,  Dominec,  Lynch,  Ryan,  and  Timon, 
strong  men,  all,  were  Lazarists.  Miege  of  Leaven- 
worth was  a  Jesuit.  He  filled  his  high  position 
with  honor  and  apostolic  zeal,  but  his  home  priests 
were  Jesuits,  and  the  Jesuit  rule  and  Jesuit  atmos- 
phere permeating  his  episcopal  residence  made  one 
imagine  he  was  within  a  Jesuit  community  house. 
In  time,  after  doing  his  work  well,  Bishop  Miege 
doffed  the  mitre  and  in  black  cassock  and  plain 
beretta  lived  for  years  back  in  the  Society  of  Jesus. 

Between  his  residence  near  Broadway  and 
westward  to  what  is  today  Washington  Avenue, 
Father  Donnelly  cultivated  peach,  apple  and  cherry 
trees.  Strawberries  and  other  small  fruits  grew 
luxuriantly  along  the  outskirts  of  the  property. 
When  the  season  had  ripened  the  fruit  he  shared 
the  luscious  products  with  the  Sisters  of  St.  Joseph. 
Then  he  would  meet  the  neighbors'  children  and 
invite  them  to  come  into  his  garden,  and  on  stated 
days  and  hours,  and  under  his  eyes,  fill  themselves. 
"Take  home  some  to  your  parents  and  don't  injure 
the  trees  by  breaking  the  limbs."  How  often,  in 
these  after  years,  one  may  hear  lawyers,  doctors, 
and  business  men  tell  of  the  treats  Father  Donnelly 
gave  them  in  their  boyhood  days! 

He  loved  to  stop  and  converse  with  children, 
and  how  fatherly  he  would  place  his  hand  on  their 
heads  and  bid  them  be  good,  and  bless  their  futures. 
When  he  daily  visited  his  school  rooms  it  was  to 
encourage  the  pupils  and  to  arouse  their  ambition 
to  be  good  and  useful  citizens.     He  was  impatient 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        181 

and  unwilling  to  hear  from  the  teachers  the  pranks 
and  faults  of  the  scholars.  It  would  cut  his  visit 
short  if  complaints  came  from  the  teacher's  lips. 
"That  will  do,  never  mind,  you  were  once  children 
and  you  are  good  now,"  he  would  say,  as  he  has- 
tened down  to  the  door.  Little  ones  would  rush 
from  their  homes  to  get  his  benevolent  smile  and 
good  word  as  he  passed  along.  He  believed  candy 
and  cakes  were  good  diet  for  the  children  and  out 
of  his  bulging  pockets  he  distributed  to  his  loved 
little  chums.  Occasionally  he  went  from  one  school 
house  to  another  on  his  morning  stroll.  It  was 
never  to  examine  or  puzzle  the  young  minds  with 
questions,  so  he  never  interfered  with  the  teacher's 
method  or  order.  He  had  been  a  teacher  himself 
and  he  had  confidence  in  the  teacher  and  would 
not  injure  his  standing  in  his  own  realm  by  ques- 
tion or  advice. 

Two-thirty  o'clock  every  Saturday  afternoon 
and  on  the  days  before  solemn  feasts  found  him 
in  the  confessional  where  he  remained  until  the 
supper  hour,  then  back  again  until  the  last  person 
left  for  home;  and  on  Sundays  before  the  Masses 
he  resumed  his  place  as  confessor.  He  said  his 
two  Masses  at  convenient  hours.  On  the  altar  he 
was  graceful  and  exact  in  every  point  of  the  ritual. 
His  devotion  to  the  sick  was  marked.  He  hurried 
to  the  bedside  of  the  patient  and  his  sympathy  for 
the  sufferer  was  that  of  a  father.  He  cheered  and, 
when  needed,  encouraged.  As  death  approached, 
his  visits  were  more  frequent  and  his  prayers  by 
the  bedside  of  the  dying  were  eloquent  of  hope 
and  pleading. 

Almost  from  his  arrival  and  while  resident 
pastor  of  Independence,  Father  Donnelly  saw  with 
the  growth  of  southwest  Missouri  the  certainty  of 
a  bishop's  see,  and  that  the  location  of  that  see 
would  be  Kansas  City.    Early  in  1870  he  felt  that 


182        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

the  time  was  ripe  for  at  least  an  agitation  for  the 
new  diocese.  Father  Donnelly  was  not  given  to 
letter  writing  as  a  habit;  in  fact,  he  called  "cacoe- 
thes  scribendi"  a  mania.  But  he  would  and  did 
write  letters  when  there  was  a  need,  and  one  was 
at  hand.  At  that  time  the  Province  of  St.  Louis 
embraced  Santa  Fe,  Denver,  Omaha,  St.  Paul, 
Dubuque,  Milwaukee,  Chicago,  Alton,  Green  Bay, 
Leavenworth  and  Nashville.  He  began  a  series 
of  letters  to  the  archbishop  and  everyone  of  the 
suffragans.  It  was  indeed  a  series,  for  he  wrote 
at  intervals  of  three  months  for  five  years.  Before 
the  result  was  accomplished  the  whole  Province 
knew  that  there  was  a  Kansas  City  and  a  South- 
west Missouri.  The  various  Bishops  became  quite 
well  acquainted  with  Father  Donnelly's  style  of 
chirography  and  finally  yielded  to  his  cogent  rea- 
sons. The  question  of  a  new  bishop  at  Kansas  City 
was  acted  on  favorably  at  a  meeting  of  the  bishops 
in  His  Grace's  residence  in  1879.  Three  names  of 
deserving  priests  were  sent  to  Rome.  It  was  said 
the  action  was  unanimous.  Two  rather  unusual 
occurences  followed  the  gathering  of  the  bishops. 
One  was  that  the  priests  of  Milwaukee  learned  the 
names  on  the  Terna,  and  presuming  that  they  had 
as  much  right  to  divulge  the  choice  of  the  bishops 
as  had  the  bishop  who  gave  them  the  information, 
made  it  public;  the  other  was  that  another  of  the 
bishops  had  changed  his  mind  about  the  need,  yes, 
the  justice  of  placing  two  bishops  in  Western  Mis- 
souri. This  bishop  visited  Kansas  City,  called  on 
Father  Donnelly,  and  went  with  him  to  St.  Teresa's 
Academy  to  look  at  a  map  of  Missouri  in  one  of 
the  classrooms.  He  marked  out  a  large  area  of 
the  contemplated  diocese  where  there  were  no 
Catholics  at  all.  He  seemed  well  acquainted  with 
the  population  of  the  little  cities  and  the  difficul- 
ties of  the  few   priests  to   maintain  themselves. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        183 

"Why,  St.  Joseph  is  too  small  territorially,  and  too 
meager  in  point  of  Catholics,  for  a  diocese.  To 
erect  another  diocese  in  this  part  of  Missouri  would 
be  an  injustice  to  St.  Joseph  and  would  make  two 
bishops  suffer  almost  for  want  instead  of  one,  as 
is  the  case  now."  He  said  he  was  on  his  way  to 
Rome,  and  in  a  few  days  started.  In  the  course  of 
a  year  Rome  was  heard  from.  The  Bishop  of  St. 
Joseph  was  transferred  to  Kansas  City  and  St. 
Joseph  was  made  tributary  to  the  city  on  the  Kaw. 
Father  Donnelly  lived  to  hear  the  decision  of 
Rome.  His  ambition  for  Kansas  City's  recognition 
was  ottained. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
FATHER  DONNELLY  ATTENDS  A  BANQUET. 


HATHER    DONNELLY    was   not   a   regular 
correspondent  among  his  brothers  of  the 
ministry.      He   seldom   visited   them   and 
they  rarely  found  an  excuse  to  visit  the 
little  unkept  city  on  the  Kaw.  His  aloofness  gained 
him  the  name  of  being  a  recluse  and  lacking  in 
hospitality.     In  St.  Louis  where  clergymen  were 
weighed  and  measured  for  a  standing,  Father  Don- 
nelly was  heard  of  only  through  the  young  assist- 
ants who  had  done  their  bit  under  his  rigorous 
rules.     The  picture  they  painted    of  him    would 
hardly  come  up  to  the  colorful  and  cheerful  can- 
vasses  of   a   Leonardo   da   Vinci!     They   belonged 
to  the  school  that  preceded  the  great  artists  of  the 
golden  Florentine   days.      They   depicted   him   in 
sombre  and  unresponsive  hues.     The  daily  break- 
fasts of  gruel,  the  slightly  better  dinners,  the  sup- 
pers with  meat  but  once  a  week,  and  that  a  boiled 
chicken,  reduced  their  weight  and  depressed  their 
spirits.    They  soon  tired  of  the  mountain  air  which 
wafted  over  the  sandy  plains  of  Kanzas.     Well, 
their  stay  with  Father  Donnelly  was  usually  short, 
and  they  petitioned  a  return  to  St.  Louis  and  never 
more  of  the  West  if  they  could  help  it.    They  drew 
for  their  inquirers  a  portrait  of  a  man  unkept  in 
dress,  severe  in  manner,  and  critical  of  youth,  who 
harnessed  his  curates  down  to  the  routine  of  their 
clerical  duties.    Simply  that  and  nothing  more.  He 
provided  them  a  comfortable  room  on  a  plot  of 
ground  six  hundred  feet  or  more  from  the  church, 
where  he  paid  them  a  morning  visit,  but  let  it  be 
known  that  they  were  not  by  Western  courtesy  ex- 
pected to  return  it. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        185 

When  Westport  was  a  mission  tributary  to 
Father  Donnelly's  parish  his  assistant  was  per- 
mitted to  say  Mass  there  on  Sundays  and  Holydays 
of  obligation.  It  was  "within  walking  distance." 
up  against  a  gradual  elevation  to  a  high  level  from 
which  the  country  around  could  be  viewed.  The 
pastors  who  had  the  services  of  these  young  men 
after  they  had  graduated  under  Father  Donnelly 
said  they  were  tractable  to  docility.  It  was  by  that 
class  of  priests  that  Father  Donnelly  was  made 
known  in  St.  Louis.  From  his  ordination  until  his 
death,  a  space  of  thirty-five  years,  he  had  visited 
St.  Louis  very  seldom,  possibly  four  or  five  times, 
and  then  called  only  on  his  classmates.  Father 
Donnelly  was  as  little  known  in  St.  Louis  as  a  mis- 
sionary in  some  distant  land.  It  was  said  and  be- 
lieved that  Father  Donnelly  was  years  and  years 
behind  the  times,  almost  an  antediluvian. 

The  Tuesday  after  Bishop  P.  J.  Ryan's  con- 
secration, which  took  place  April  14th,  1872,  all 
the  visiting  archbishops,  bishops  and  attending 
priests  partook  of  a  banquet  in  his  honor  given  by 
the  priests  of  the  diocese.  The  banquet  was  in  the 
beautiful  and  spacious  hall  in  Pezolt's  new  res- 
taurant on  Olive  Street  near  10th.  The  spread 
was  the  supreme  effort  of  that  far-known  caterer. 
Following  the  banquet,  speeches  were  made  by 
bishops  and  archbishops.  Bishop  Foley,  not  yet 
two  years  in  the  episcopacy,  Bishop  of  Chicago, 
and  native  of  Baltimore,  made  the  speech  of  the 
day.  He  was  young  and  handsome,  with  all  the 
refinement  possible,  with  southern  accent,  and 
with  a  flow  of  wit  and  humor  that  brought  forth 
applause.  He  was  playfully  funny  in  his  refer- 
ences to  the  guest  of  honor,  Bishop  Ryan.  He 
spoke  of  him  as  a  babe  two  days  old.  He 
referred  to  his  swaddling  clothes.  He  exalted 
Chicago,  and  mentioned  St.  Louis  as  too  old  for 


186        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

so  young  a  bridegroom.  He  saw  archbishop's 
honors  coming  to  Chicago,  and  St.  Louis  doing  the 
best  it  could  to  survive  until  finally  it  would  lean 
on  Chicago  as  an  outside  town  rests  on  an  adjoin- 
ing metropolis.  And  indeed,  St.  Louis  might  yet 
be  the  residing  place  of  the  Vicar-General  of  Chi- 
cago !  The  printed  order  of  toasts  ran  out  with 
Bishop  Foley's  speech.  Bishop  Ryan  arose  to 
thank  his  friends.  He  graciously,  and  with  emo- 
tion in  eye  and  accent,  thanked  all  present  for 
their  kindness.  He  referred  to  his  happy  years 
in  the  priesthood  of  St.  Louis,  the  many  favors  re- 
ceived at  the  hands  of  his  fellow  priests,  and  ten- 
derly acknowledged  the  great  dignity  to  which  he 
was  raised  by  Archbishop  Kenrick,  who  was  ever 
to  him  a  Father  as  well  as  a  Bishop.  He  merely 
referred  to  the  pleasantries  of  Bishop  Foley.  The 
speech  was  well-prepared  and  at  times  delivered 
in  his  best  oratorical  style.  The  occasion  evidently 
seemed  to  him  too  solemn  to  be  marred  by  banter- 
ing. The  St.  Louis  priests  wished  and  demanded 
that  some  one  get  back  at  Bishop  Foley.  It  was 
in  order  to  adjourn,  but  the  priests  wanted  an- 
other speech.  They  shouted  to  Father  O'Brien, 
the  toastmaster,  for  just  one  more  speech;  Father 
O'Brien  arose  and  waved  silence.  When  quiet 
came,  he  said:  "Gentlemen,  there's  something 
lacking.  You  want  one  more  speech  and  so  do  I. 
There  is  a  priest  here  who  can  make  that  speech. 
You  young  clergymen  don't  know,  perhaps  there 
are  not  more  than  a  dozen  of  the  older  ones  who 
do  know,  him.  I  know  him.  We  were  classmates, 
we  were  ordained  side  by  side.  I  now  call  on 
Father  Donnelly  of  Kansas  City  to  arise.  He  is 
sitting  away  down  near  the  end  of  this  room." 
Father  arose  and  as  he  walked  up  to  the  speakers' 
and  bishops'  table,  the  priests  stood  up  and 
cheered.     There  was  a  smile  on  his  face  which 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        187 

lightened  up  his  countenance.  He  was  attired  in  a 
well  fitting  clerical  suit,  fresh  from  the  tailor. 
They  saw  an  intellectual  face  and  a  finely  shaped 
head.  In  a  clear,  distinct  voice  and  with  the  great- 
est possible  composure  he  began.  Compliments  all 
around  was  his  introduction.  Father  Tom  Burke, 
the  Lazarist,  was  kindly  referred  to,  and  Father 
John  McGary,  also  a  Lazarist.  The  latter  was  the 
second  president  of  Mount  St.  Mary's,  at  Emmets- 
burg.  He  was  the  priest  who  hired  young  John 
Hughes  as  gardener  around  the  college,  and  who 
taught  the  young  man  Latin  and  introduced  him 
into  the  seminary.  Turning  to  Bishop  Foley  he 
congratulated  him  on  his  handsome  looks  and  fine 
speech.  His  wit  as  well  as  his  name  gave  evidence 
of  his  race.  He  wTas  the  very  man  to  rule  the 
destinies  of  the  go-ahead  Chicago.  And  if  the 
Bishop  may  be  taken  as  a  revified  cinder  of  the 
burned  city,  it  would  seem  as  if  Chicago  was  ready 
for  another  blaze.  Chicago  from  its  infancy  had 
been  aglow.  When  Rome  created  a  diocese  in  the 
little  village  on  Lake  Michigan,  it  sent  a  bishop 
from  the  largest  city  in  the  land,  New  York.  Full 
of  New  York's  snap  and  vigor,  Bishop  Quarters  did 
superhuman  work  in  a  few  years,  and  was  satis- 
fied to  die.  The  Vice-Provincial  of  the  Jesuits  at 
St.  Louis,  a  man  of  zeal,  gifted  with  the  shrewd- 
ness for  which  the  members  of  that  Society  are 
noted,  took  up  where  the  New  York  Bishop  let  go. 
In  less  than  three  years  Bishop  Van  Der  Velde  was 
begging  to  be  allowed  to  seek  a  home  and  work  in 
a  quieter  realm  and  was  happy  to  be  awarded  the 
see  of  Natchez,  Mississippi.  He  breathed  easier  in 
his  sunny  southern  home.  The  third  apostle,  with 
the  fight  of  St.  Paul  in  his  heart  and  the  books  of 
a  professor  of  philosophy  and  theology  in  his  head, 
and  with  the  constitution  of  an  athletic  and  a  heavy 
Irish   brogue  born   with   him  in   Connaught   and 


188        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

growing  with  his  growth,  left  the  seminary  in  St. 
Louis,  determined  to  conquer  or  die,  but  never  to 
resign.  His  first  day  in  Chicago  loosened  up  some- 
thing vital  inside  of  him.  Five  years  in  the  breezes 
of  Lake  Michigan  made  him  feel  a  longing  for  a 
little  rest  in  the  balmy  atmosphere  of  Italy.  Dis- 
tance did  not  lend  enchantment  to  the  view,  and 
he  took  up  his  home  in  the  soothing  fogs  of  Lon- 
don to  act  as  bishop  auxiliary  to  Cardinal  Arch- 
bishop Wiseman.  Then  the  polished,  gentle 
Bishop  Duggan  left  behind  his  coadjutorship  in  St. 
Louis  and  went  forward  to  propitiate  the  elements 
in  Chicago.  He  still  lives,  in  the  confinement  of 
St.  Vincent's  Hospital,  in  this  city.  Baltimore, 
steeped  in  southern  culture,  quiet  in  the  repose  of 
peace  and  brotherly  contentment,  offers  its  most 
beloved  priest,  secretary  to  a  Kenrick  and  a  Spald- 
ing, as  a  pacificator  in  heart  and  mind  and  tongue, 
eloquent  and  suave,  to  make  a  long  reign.  You 
came,  you  saw,  and  no  doubt  you'll  conquer.  Your 
aspirations  are  high  and  noble.  You  predict  great 
growth  and  pleasant  results.  You  have  thrown  out 
your  line  of  diocesan  advancement.  You  predict 
the  future  great  Chicago  will  cross  the  Mississippi 
and  you  plant  a  Vicar-General  in  St.  Louis,  where 
an  archbishop  now  reigns.  In  your  short  and 
happy  term  in  Chicago  you  have  outstepped  even 
your  city's  aspirations.  But  there  is  a  far-looking 
strength  and  greatness  in  the  Church  ruler  of  St. 
Louis,  and  there  is  a  wit  and  cunning  in  the  babe 
of  two  days  who  now  peeps  out  of  his  swaddling 
clothes.  Chicago  is  not  a  salubrious  climate  for 
bishops,  and  it  would  be  well  to  keep  the  Vicar 
General  nearer  the  Lake  than  St.  Louis.  Bishops 
need  their  vicars  close  at  home.  They  are  helpful 
stays  near  the  diocesan  throne." 

He  said  many  more  things,  and  when  he  re- 
turned  to   his   place   among   the   younger   clergy, 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        189 

plaudits  were  ringing  through  the  festal  chamber. 
Priests  were  rushing  from  their  seats  to  shake  his 
hand  and  thank  him.  His  former  assistants  came 
forward  to  convince  themselves  it  was  the  Father 
Donnelly  they  had  served  for  short  spaces  in  suc- 
cession in  Kansas  City. 


Si 


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CHAPTER  XXII. 
LAST  DAYS. 

ON  the  feast  of  the  Annunciation,  1880, 
Fathers  Dunn  and  Kiely,  and  two  Redemp- 
torists,  Fathers  Faivre  and  Firley,  were 
guests  of  the  pastor  of  that  church.  Father 
Donnelly  preached  at  the  solemn  high  Mass.  After 
dinner  Father  Donnelly  surprised  the  priests  when 
he  told  them  he  had  written  his  resignation.  He 
read  them  the  letter  to  Archbishop  Kenrick.  His 
brother  priests  reasoned  long  and  well  with  him  to 
reconsider,  but  it  was  no  use.  He  said  his  health 
required  rest  and  quiet.  In  a  few  days  the  resigna- 
tion was  forwarded.  During  Holy  Week  a  letter 
from  His  Grace  came  to  Father  Donnelly.  It  read 
as  follows : 

"Rev.  Dear  Father  Donnelly:  Father  Doherty, 
pastor  of  Kirkwood,  will  take  charge  of  Immac- 
ulate Conception  Church  on  the  coming  Easter 
Sunday. 

Yours  truly, 
fP.  R.  KENRICK,  Abp." 

Short  and  to  the  point.  No  time  was  lost  in 
the  writing  of  that  letter.  There  was  no  time  for 
a  recognition  of  his  thirty-five  years  of  apostolic 
work,  no  time  to  say  a  word  of  thanks  for  the 
financial  wealth  he  had  so  freely  given  Independ- 
ence, Westport,  and  Kansas  City,  and  the  St.  Louis 
Arch-diocese.  A  few  weeks  previously  Father 
Donnelly  wrote  three  letters  detailing  some  of  the 
gifts  of  property  he  gave  the  Church  at  those 
places,  and  the  cash  he  had  expended  out  of  his 
own  personal  means.  He  stated  in  those  letters 
that  he  was  nearing  his  end  from  disease,  and  also 


192       Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

wrote  that  he  was  now  without  a  cent  of  money 
or  a  foot  of  real  estate.  The  same  information 
ran  through  each  of  the  letters,  a  copy  of  which 
follows : 

"Parsonage,  Kansas  City,  Jan.  19,  1880. 

"I  am  sure  you  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that 
an  Orphan  Asylum  is  now  completed  and  paid 
for;  the  entire  cost  is  $16,000.  The  sum  of  $11,200 
was  obtained  for  this  purpose  from  the  sale  of  a 
part  of  the  original  ten-acre  lot  left  by  Father  Le 
Roux,  which  I  saved  for  a  period  of  thirty-five 
years;  the  balance  I  saved  out  of  our  new  Catholic 
Cemetery,  with  every  dollar  I  could  spare  for 
three  years.  I  also  donated  ten  acres  of  land  sit- 
uated near  the  Redemptorist  Convent,  which  I 
bought  sixteen  years  ago  for  a  cemetery.  There 
is  no  debt  on  the  new  cemetery.  Its  44  acres  I  pur- 
chased with  my  own  money.  I  purchased  the  site 
of  the  Westport  Church  and  reduced  the  debt  on 
the  new  church  started  by  Father  Doherty. 

"Now  I  do  not  own  a  square  foot  of  real 
estate  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  or  a  dollar  in 
money.  Some  future  pastor  or  perhaps  a  bishop 
will  probably  build  a  cathedral  here  and  bring  the 
people  and  the  needs  of  religion  to  greater  perfec- 
tion. As  for  me,  my  course  is  nearly  run.  I  suffer 
from  chest  disease.     I  have  never  had  a  vacation. 

"Kansas  City  is  surely  to  become  one  of  the 
large  cities  of  the  United  States.  Buildings  are 
going  up  all  the  winter,  the  present  year  is  ex- 
pected to  be  the  most  prosperous  of  all.  The  pop- 
ulation at  present  is  estimated  at  60,000.  The 
writer  is  as  much  astonished  at  what  he  sees,  al- 
though it  so  happened  that  he  was  around  here 
before  the  city  was  founded  at  all,  as  those  who 
have  come  lately. 

"Affectionately  yours, 

"Bernard  Donnelly." 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        193 

Three  copies  of  this  letter  were  written,  one 
to  Archbishop  Kenrick,  another  to  Bishop  Ryan, 
coadjutor  bishop,  and  a  third  to  Father  Muehl- 
siepen,  V.  G.  of  St.  Louis. 

Father  Doherty,  the  successor,  arrived  here  on 
the  Saturday  before  Easter  Sunday.  Father  Don- 
nelly's greeting  to  him  was  cordial.  He  said,  "This 
is  your  parish,  and  this  is  the  only  home  I  have 
to  give  you."  Taking  his  hat  and  overcoat  he 
moved  to  the  door,  saying,  "God  bless  you ;  may 
your  days  here  be  long  and  happy."  Father  Doherty 
replied  to  Father  Donnelly:  "I  want  you  to  stay, 
this  will  be  your  home  as  long  as  you  live.  I'll 
find  quarters  somewhere  in  the  parish  until  the 
people  build  me  a  residence."  It  was  no  use.  Father 
Donnelly  went  forth.  He  had  no  home  in  sight,  he 
had  no  money  to  purchase  food  or  shelter.  As  he 
moved  outside  to  the  streets,  some  Sisters  from 
St.  Joseph's  Hospital  passing  by  hailed  him  and 
hearing  his  story,  said  to  him:  "Father  Donnelly, 
the  Sisters  of  St.  Joseph  owe  you  all  they  have  in 
Kansas  City.  They  foresaw  what  was  coming  and 
there  is  a  comfortable  room  awaiting  you  in  St. 
Joseph's  Hospital."  They  retraced  their  steps  to 
the  hospital  and  bade  Father  Donnelly  go  with 
them,  where  he  would  have  a  home  and  care  as 
long  as  he  lived. 

His  remaining  days  were  not  many.  Disease 
was  weakening  him.  When  the  sun  shone  he 
would  move  around.  His  steps  were  slow  and 
tottering,  but  the  smile  of  recognition  as  he  met 
a  friend  here  and  there  lit  his  wan  face.  In 
November  he  went  to  bed  to  get  up  no  more.  The 
attention  of  the  good  Sisters  was  unremitting.  All 
that  physicians  could  do  was  exhausted,  and  a  few 
minutes  past  4  p.  m.,  December  15th,  1880, 
Father  Donnelly's  soul  went  back  to  his  God, 
who  does  not  forget  and  who  repays  for  services 


194       Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

rendered.  It  was  a  coincidence,  it  was  by  the  di- 
rection of  a  moving  Spirit,  it  was  a  coming  together 
that  was  not  arranged  for — every  priest  in  Kansas 
City,  without  a  call  from  anybody,  without  a  knowl- 
edge of  his  coming  dissolution,  was  at  Father 
Donnelly's  bedside  when  his  spirit  went  forth.  The 
day  previous  and  the  morning  of  the  day  of  his 
death,  the  inquiring  clergy  were  told  that  Father 
Donnelly  had  rested  the  night  before  and  would 
likely  survive  several  days.  The  writer,  who  knew 
him  longest  and  best,  was  the  first  to  reach  his 
side.  Death  was  coming  very  fast.  Before  he  had 
read  far  in  the  prayers  for  the  dying,  the  priests 
were  all  kneeling  in  the  sick  chamber  and  answer- 
ing the  invocations  for  a  happy  death.  The  Sis- 
ters, too,  were  there  from  the  parish  schools,  from 
St.  Teresa's  Academy,  and  the  Sisters  of  the  hos- 
pital. When  the  end  had  come,  priests  and  Sisters 
lingered  to  pray  for  the  departed.  A  worthy  man, 
a  true  priest,  and  an  indefatigable  worker  had  left 
the  scene  of  years  of  truly  apostolic  zeal  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  man. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  before  the  day  of  the 
funeral,  the  children  of  the  Immaculate  Concep- 
tion Parish,  and  of  Annunciation  and  St.  Patrick's, 
followed  by  fully  two  thousand  people  from  all 
parts  of  the  city,  escorted  Father  Donnelly's  re- 
mains to  his  church.  When  the  procession  arrived 
at  Broadway  and  11th  Streets  there  was  a  crowd 
awaiting  the  corpse,  that  filled  sidewalks  and 
streets  up  to  the  church  doors.  The  aisles  and  pews 
were  packed  to  the  Sanctuary.  It  was  one  dense 
throng  of  mourning  friends  and  admirers,  who 
showed  by  their  tears  and  sobs  that  a  loved  Father 
was  dead.  All  during  the  night  there  was  a  stream 
of  people  passing  in  and  out  after  viewing  the  re- 
mains. Volunteers  gave  their  services  to  leading 
in  the  rosary  and  litanies  that  never  died  out  for 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly        195 

a  moment  until  the  first  tones  of  the  organ  an- 
nounced the  hour  for  the  Requiem  services  and  the 
entrance  into  the  Sanctuary  of  over  one  hundred 
priests  from  St.  Louis  and  all  the  cities  and  towns 
in  the  West.  One  hundred  priests  forty  years  ago 
meant  more  than  lived  east  and  west  of  the  banks 
of  the  Missouri  River  this  side  of  St.  Louis.  The 
solemn  High  Mass  was  chanted  and  every  priest 
present  went  with  the  funeral  cortege  out  to  the 
new  Mount  St.  Mary's  Cemetery  to  see  the  remains 
of  a  great  priest  buried  within  the  cemetery  he 
donated  and  in  the  grave  he  selected,  where  he  often 
said  he  wished  to  sleep  for  all  time— but,  without 
rest  in  life,  his  tired  bones  were  not  to  be  allowed 
to  rest  in  death. 

The  irony  of  fate  seemed  to  follow  Father 
Donnelly  into  the  grave.  Sunday  after  Sunday 
he  declaimed  against  the  extravagant  funeral  pro- 
cessions that  conveyed  the  dead  to  the  cemeteries. 
"You,  my  dear  people,"  he  would  say,  "go  to  ex- 
tremes in  your  lavish  expenditures  at  funerals. 
You  spend  money  you  cannot  afford  on  carriages 
and  buggies;  you  incur  debts  and  are  forced  to 
deny  yourselves  and  your  families  becoming  attire 
and  the  necessities  of  life  as  a  result.  At  times 
many  of  you  have  lost  your  jobs  by  staying  away 
from  your  places  of  employment  a  half  and  fre- 
quently a  whole  day  in  going  and  coming  from  the 
cemetery.  When  death  enters  your  homes  you 
spend  so  recklessly  you  are  indebted  to  undertaker 
and  carriage  owners  for  months." 

When  the  news  of  Father  Donnelly's  death  was 
spread  abroad  numbers  of  his  friends  met  in  a 
public  hall  to  arrange  for  a  funeral  that  would 
show  their  appreciation  of  a  good  priest  and  citi- 
zen. A  committee  was  appointed.  A  brass  band 
was  first  on  their  list,  then  carriages  for  pall- 
bearers and  for  friends  unable  to  bear  the  expense 


196        Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly 

of  conveyances  for  themselves.  They  selected  a 
coffin  costing  over  $900.  Such  a  display  has  never 
been  equalled  in  the  history  of  Kansas  City,  even 
to  the  present  day.  The  newspapers  the  following 
day  said  there  were  118  buggies,  75  carriages,  3 
omnibusses,  and  22  other  vehicles,  making  in  all 
219  conveyances  in  the  procession,  which  was  two 
miles  long  and  required  forty-five  minutes  to  pass 
a  given  point. 

Father  Donnelly  had  often  concluded  his  re- 
monstrances against  the  extravagance  and  show  of 
modern  funerals  with  the  remarks,  "When  I  am 
dead  I  shall  not  have  need  of  a  will,  for  I  shall 
have  no  money  to  distribute.  I  want  a  plain  pine- 
board  coffin,  and  wish  no  display  of  carriages  and 
buggies." 

When  the  undertaker  had  drawn  up  his  state- 
ment of  the  costs,  he  could  find  no  person  or  per- 
sons willing  to  assume  any  financial  responsibility 
— they  had  acted  as  a  committee  only.  All  of 
Father  Donnelly's  own  property  had  been  given 
to  the  churches  and  educational  and  charitable  in- 
stitutions during  his  lifetime.  A  deed  returned  to 
Father  Donnelly  by  Archbishop  Kenrick  about  the 
time  of  his  death,  and  found  several  weeks  after 
his  burial,  furnished  the  means  of  a  final  settle- 
ment of  his  funeral  expenses. 

Father  Donnelly's  remains  rested  for  a  time 
in  Mount  St.  Mary's  Cemetery,  his  personal  gift 
to  the  Catholics  of  Kansas  City.  When  the  new 
Cathedral  was  completed  they  were  taken  from  the 
grave  and  placed  beneath  a  side  aisle  in  the  Sanc- 
tuary. He  lies  in  the  original  ten  acres  left  by 
Father  Le  Roux  and  so  carefully  guarded  by  him 
against  the  efforts  of  committees  to  sell  it  or  ex- 
change it,  or  to  partition  it  for  the  erection  of  new 
parishes. 


Life  of  Father  Bernard  Donnelly       197 

Peace  to  your  soul,  Kansas  City's  great  Pastor 
and  Provider!  Your  sagacity  did  more  to  build 
the  Cathedral  than  did  the  contributions  of  Kansas 
City's  Catholics.  Your  loving  care  provided  an 
asylum  for  the  orphan,  a  hospital  for  the  sick  and 
the  dying,  and  a  cemetery  for  the  dead.  You 
opened  the  first  school  for  the  little  ones  of  your 
flock,  and  out  of  your  savings  helped  erect  the 
first  academy  for  higher  education.  Your  loyalty 
to  your  city  in  counsel  and  assistance  when  it  was 
a  struggling  landing-place  was  side  by  side  with 
your  efforts  in  upbuilding  the  cause  of  religion. 
Your  zeal  for  Kansas  City  and  for  its  growth  to 
your  oft-predicted  metropolitan  greatness  had  no 
selfish  motive.  Your  grave  has  no  marker  of  sil- 
ver or  brass  to  tell  where  your  ashes  lie.  No  shaft 
of  marble  points  heavenward  in  cemetery,  park 
or  boulevard  to  say  that  you  were  Kansas  City's 
faithful  friend  and  helper  in  its  infancy  and  in  its 
struggling  days  when  war  and  nature's  obstacles 
threatened  its  very  life.  But  your  memory  is  kept 
alive  by  the  property  you  donated  to  and  preserved 
for  the  Church,  by  the  institutions  of  charity  and 
learning  you  were  instrumental  in  founding,  by  the 
presence  of  those  religious  orders  (both  men  and 
women)  who  came  at  your  invitation — yes,  verily 
by  your  works,  oh  good  and  faithful  servant  in 
the  vineyard  of  the  King  of  kings,  are  you  known 
and  remembered  in  the  place  where  you  accom- 
plished so  much  good.  ETERNAL  REST  IN 
HEAVEN,  Father  Donnelly,  is  the  prayer  of  the 
writer  of  your  long-deferred  Biography  and  will 
stand  as 

FINIS 


Mott 

HCKNOWLEDGMENT  is  hereby 
gratefully  made  for  the  photographs 
so  kindly  furnished  the  author; 
To  D.  P.    Thomson 

for  the  portrait  of  Father  Donnelly. 
To  The  Photographic  and  View  Company 

for  the  pictures  of  Father  Donnelly's  Church, 
St.  Joseph's  Orphan  Asylum,  and  the  two  views 
of  St.  Teresa's  Academy. 

To  Anderson  Photo  Company 

for  the  views  of  Redemptorist  Church. 


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